


Angel of Mine

by bubblegumkitsch



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:56:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblegumkitsch/pseuds/bubblegumkitsch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm Zayn, a third year english student, it's my first time here and," he swallows, throat thick with nervousness, "I guess I'm here ‘cause I'm an alcoholic."</p>
<p>Zayn is a recovering alcoholic and Liam is his sponsor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel of Mine

**Author's Note:**

> The [song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QGOCEOsBE3w) that inspired this fic 
> 
>  
> 
> [Title](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3eOuK-pYhy4)
> 
> And here's the [mix](http://8tracks.com/bubblegumkitsch/geraldine) to go along w/it (beware of spoilers though)

Zayn takes another sip of coffee to stop himself from fidgeting. It’s all terribly uncomfortable; the fluorescent lighting, the worn-down bean bags strewn around in the corners, what he assumes are supposed to be motivational posters lining a couple of the walls. And the pièce de résistance: a huge circle of plastic chairs waiting to be inhabited by people still milling about at the refreshments table.

Zayn wishes they’d just hurry up and get on with it. He’d tried to leave earlier, turning around almost immediately when he’d seen a girl he recognized from his comparative literature seminar, but was quickly corralled back into the room by a tan boy wearing arguably the tightest pants Zayn had ever seen. He introduced himself briefly: “Louis, 22, Capricorn, theatre education major.”

Louis must have been able to sense that Zayn was about to bolt because he quickly dragged him further away from the door and placed a finger in warning on Zayn’s chest. “Now just you wait there,” Louis cautioned. Zayn couldn’t even protest, standing stone-still and watching as Louis flitted across the room to the table of juice and snacks. He came back moments later carrying two cups of coffee. “First time?”

“Is it really that obvious?” Zayn felt woozy.

Louis chuckled, “Well, considering you look like you might hurl at any moment’s notice, I’d say you’re either new here or you took a very wrong turn on your way to the student health center.”

Zayn twitched for the door again. “Oh no you don’t!” Louis grabbed his arm. He had a surprisingly strong grip for someone someone so...slight. “If you think I’m gonna let the first decent-looking bloke who’s come round here in ages just walk out, you’ve got another thing coming.” He herded Zayn over to one of the plastic chairs. “You just sit and wait here, and I’ll be back for _you_ later,” he promised with a sly twist of his mouth, proceeding to make his rounds throughout the room and stopping to talk to every person he passed.

Now Zayn’s waiting, watching the circle of chairs slowly fill up with people. Most seem like they’ve been here before, unphased by how contrived it all is, chatting and laughing with people as they drop into familiar seats. How could they be so happy?

Finally, a majority of the chairs are filled and the air of the room changes, becomes more charged. Louis drops down on the seat to his right, throwing an arm casually around the back of Zayn’s chair. The chair on his other side remains empty, which is just as well. It'll be easier for Zayn to bolt when the time comes.

The room quiets as an older man with closely cropped hair and a tight black v-neck stands up from his seat, almost directly across from Zayn. “Welcome, old and new, to this week’s all-addiction meeting for the Center for Recovering Students. Veterans, you’ll have heard this a thousand times, but for the newcomers with us today, I’d like to make a few things clear before we begin. These meetings are to be an open space. We're not here to judge you, we're not here to make your decisions for you, and we're most certainly not here to make you do anything or share anything that you don't feel comfortable with. This time is meant to give you an opportunity to talk and listen to people who have been in similar situations to your own, perhaps gather resources to help you cope with your experiences.” The man pauses to gaze around the circle, looking pointedly at all of the students not staring at the walls or floor. When he gets to Zayn, he quickly ducks his head down, his lap suddenly very interesting. “If you feel uncomfortable at any point, feel free to excuse yourself, or, better yet, speak up if you feel you can. This is an open forum for students in recovery and, as you’ll learn, recovery is not a set of steps, but rather a lifelong process. I hope we can all continue to learn from each other.

“All that being said, let's get started! I'll begin. My name is Simon Cowell, I've been a professor here at the university for around 15 years now, and I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi, Simon," the room echoes, the group's enthusiasm startling Zayn enough for Louis to look over at him.

"Call and response," Louis explains in a whisper, "meant to make everyone feel welcome. Painfully awkward at first, I’m afraid, but you'll get used to it."

Simon takes his seat and claps his hands once. “Right, then. Who’d like to start us off?”

A lanky kid with a mop of brown hair shoots his hand up in the air. He introduces himself as Harry Styles, first year undeclared, 5 months sober. Zayn is struck by how young the boy looked. To be honest, most people in the group looked fairly young. Addiction was never something Zayn had associated with young people. He feels odd being at the meeting himself. He had assumed there would just be a few people, but even as the meeting went on more people kept trickling in. The meeting goes on in the same sort of format for a while. Students with various addictions, mostly alcoholics with a couple of heroin or meth addicts here and there, talk about their weeks, the temptations and struggles they've encountered.

Zayn doesn't notice right away when someone sits in the chair to his left. It's not until a leg brushes against his own that he looks up from where he's been nervously picking at his cuticle.

Zayn glances over at the man now sitting beside him. Smiling back at him through a pair of squinty brown eyes the man leans over and whispers, "Sorry I'm late." He gives a silent wave to Simon across the room.

It's just then that the girl who's been talking for the last couple minutes winds down her story about trying to cope with the death of her childhood dog sober. After a short pause the man in the seat next to Zayn clears his throat.

"Right then, I guess I'll go," he says abruptly, "my name is Liam - ” (“hi, Liam!) “ - and as you might have noticed, I'm forty five minutes late to an hour long meeting...so that's my week for you!" He pauses for a moment. "Oh, right, and I'm an alcoholic."

As Liam sits down again Zayn can't help but stare. Liam is truly mesmerizing. His face is warm and soft but his body solid and strong, muscles bulging slightly against the fabric of his flannel button down as he stretches his arms forward to crack his knuckles.

Zayn looks over at the clock on the wall. Ten 'til. His heart starts beating faster when he glances around and realizes he's the only one in the circle who hasn't shared. Simon stands up and offers, "Would anyone else like to share, or should we close out the meeting?"

The room falls silent as all eyes shift to Zayn. Louis elbows him HARD in the rib cage, making him nearly spill cold coffee all over his trousers. Zayn flushes and readjusts in his seat. "Um, okay. Might as well then, I suppose," he starts, "I'm Zayn, a third year english student, it's my first time here and," he swallows, throat thick with nervousness, "I guess I'm here ‘cause I'm an alcoholic."

It's then that it really hits him. This was the first time he'd said it aloud. He is an alcoholic. And now he’s just told a room full of strangers.

It’s not like he hadn’t alluded to it when he went to counseling at the student services center. That’s how he found out about these meetings in the first place. Annoyed with the counselor’s condescending need to “help put Zayn back on the right path,” he’d stuffed the pamphlet deep into the dredges of his bag in favor of going downtown with the cute barista he always flirted with from the coffee shop down the street.

Later that night, wasted, stumbling and struggling to find the way back to his apartment, Zayn had somehow ended up on the outer edge of campus. Startled by a noise in some nearby bushes that turned out to be a couple of first years messing around, Zayn lost his footing. Luckily he caught himself before his head hit the pavement, but in the process he scratched up his hands and knees pretty badly. Sitting on the pavement, catching his breath and starting to pick out some pieces of gravel from his bloody palms, Zayn took in his surroundings.

He’d fallen down smack dab in front to the Social Work building. He never really came around this way as all his courses were on the opposite end of campus. But wasn’t this where those AA meetings that prick of a counselor told him about were hosted? With a great effort, Zayn hoisted himself up off of the sidewalk to go peer through the glass windows. With the help of a flickering fluorescent light in the far corner, he could just make out a black sign near the stairs pointing to the basement that read “Center for Recovering Students.”

“Hmph.” Zayn rolled his eyes. They couldn’t even swing an office that had windows? Who wants to get sober in an underground bunker? No thanks.

Zayn started to walk away but as he turned he caught a glimpse of something in the glass pane of the window. His reflection? No, couldn’t be. This guy looked awful. As he took a closer look his heart fell to the pit of his stomach. It was him. He did look awful. Bloody hands, quiff fallen flat against his sweaty forehead, eyes sunken in like a zombie. How did he get like this? When did he cross the line from mysterious party boy over to drunken sad sack?

Somewhere on the way back to his apartment that night, Zayn resolved to go to a meeting. What could it hurt? Vanity aside, Zayn knew he couldn’t continue on at the same pace he’d been keeping for the past couple of years. He’d already started to feel it in his bank account and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel like absolute shit the five days out of seven where he still had to get up and go to class in the morning after drinking himself into a stupor.

Zayn somehow still managed to get good grades, maintaining his scholarship and picking up shifts as a tutor now and then when he could. It’s just...he’d forgotten how to do it on his own. How get through the day to day without the promise of a couple (or three, or five) stiff drinks.

It seemed easy enough for everyone else to hold out till the weekend. Wait until Friday or Saturday to get absolutely pissed and spend the week recovering. And, truth be told, that’s how it was for Zayn when he started at university. But somewhere along the line he’d lost control. Unable to carry himself from one weekend to the next without some liquid assistance along the way. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried to cut back. But all of his attempts were cut short by that same aching need in the pit of his stomach that inevitably rolled around about five in the afternoon every day.

Yes, Zayn would try it, he’d affirmed to himself as he drifted to sleep still fully clothed. And he wanted to, he really did, but it wasn’t until over two weeks later that he was finally able to work up the nerve go to a meeting, having talked himself out of going due to a test the next day.

Now, as Zayn stands biting his tongue try to stop tears from filling his eyes, he wonders why this is so shocking. Deep down he’s known for a while that he has a problem, but saying it out loud made it that much more real.

As soon as he sits back down, Zayn feels a firm hand cup the back of his neck. “Hi, Zayn,” Liam repeats with the others. But for some reason Liam's voice sounds clearer than the rest, more important, more like a promise than a greeting.

Zayn’s ears are ringing as he watches Simon close the meeting. He announces times for various specific support groups and goes on for a bit about some fundraiser next Tuesday before people start leaving their seats.

“You all right there Zayn?” Louis chirps, placing a hand on Zayn’s shoulder and giving it a tight squeeze. Zayn’s never met someone with so few physical boundaries. Typically he’s not one for much physical contact amongst people he’s just met but at this moment it feels nice to have someone stay close. “First meetings can be rough, I know. Harold here could have filled a bathtub with all the water works he produced the first time he shared,” Louis gestures to the curly-haired boy from before.

“Hey there, you’re underselling your own crying abilities, Louis,” Harry says smirking. “I think you’d be hard pressed to find a swimming pool big enough to fit the tears this one cried when we watched The Notebook.” Harry settles himself onto Louis’ lap and begins to regale Zayn with the tale when he is interrupted by a slender blonde boy

“Right then, who’s this?” The boy says nodding towards Zayn while simultaneously attempting to balance three separate plates of cookies and doughnuts from the refreshments table.

“Niall, how nice of you to join us! This here is young Zayn, as you might have known were you not too busy stuffing your face to pay attention when he shared just moments ago,” Louis retorts.

“Good to meet you.” Niall seems to try to reach out a hand but then remembers himself and just smiles and shrugs instead.

“Will you be joining us for dinner later then, Zayn?” Liam asks. Distracted by the spectacle of Harry and Louis to his right, combined with Niall inadvertently dropping crumbs all over Zayn's new shoes, Zayn had nearly forgotten Liam sitting quietly to his left. “Me and the boys usually grab some pizza after the all-addictions meetings.”

“Yes! Fresh meat!” Louis makes no attempt to whisper excitedly to Harry

“Louis, we wouldn’t want to scare off Zayn after his first meeting,” Liam chides, grinning still.

“Seriously, you should come!” Niall pitches in, “No offense but you’re a step away from skin and bones, man.”

"And coming from Niall, that's saying something," Harry adds with a smirk.

“Tempting offer, but I’ve got a paper to write. Maybe next time?” Zayn’s not quite sure he’s prepared to be seen with this bunch in public just yet.

“Suit yourself, more for me.” Niall claps Zayn on the back before shoving one last brownie into his mouth and heading towards the stairs. Harry and Louis are close behind. Harry lingers a few steps behind Louis as he ascends the stairs, admiring the view and wagging his eyebrows exaggeratedly at Zayn before he hurries to catch up with Louis, his long legs easily closing the gap.

And then it’s just Zayn and Liam. “Sure you’re not interested? I know that lot can be difficult to handle at first, but since it’s your meeting time, it’s good to find some new things to occupy your time. Could be a good time to ask any questions you’ve got. No pressure.”

“That’s all right.” Zayn definitely wouldn’t mind spending some more time with Liam but his head is still swimming with thoughts of what’s ahead of him “I’ve really got to get going.”

“Okay, okay, I just thought I’d check.” Liam reaches for his backpack and pulls out a pen. “Here.” He takes a left over napkin and scribbles a number on it. “Take my number. I realize I don’t know you very well, but...we’ve all been where you are, Zayn. So, really, if you want to talk about anything, don’t even think twice about it, give me a call.”

“Right.” Zayn stuffs the napkin into his pocket. “Thanks. I guess I’ll see you around then?”

“Absolutely!” Liam beams, taking Zayn’s hand and giving it a firm shake.

‘Maybe this won’t be so bad,’ Zayn thinks letting his optimism carry him up the stairs. ‘Maybe I can do this,’ he repeats to himself. “Maybe...” he breathes, the reality of the sun setting on the horizon through the windows reminding him that it was pushing six o’clock and he’d yet to have a drink.

Zayn isn't even halfway to his apartment when the yearning hits him. It's not just the dull headache he feels creeping in, or his pulse quickening and breath becoming labored. There's something more, there's always been something more when it comes to drinking with Zayn.

Once he'd started, he'd never truly been able to stop. In high school, he drank at a few parties, each time getting so pissed he’d wait long stretches before he tried again. At university he didn’t really have that option. If he wanted to continue to make friends he knew he’d have to keep going to parties. And that’s how it started. Each weekend spiralling further and further down the hole, unable to drink without getting blackout drunk. Inevitably things started to slow down on the party front. That’s when Zayn knew he had a problem. He started drinking alone to fill the gaps, physically unable to go bed without drinking himself there.

For Zayn drinking is more than the buzz, more than the smooth burn down his throat. It’s more than the confidence it gives him, more than the numbing sensation that dulls his aches. Drinking, alcohol, it’s a part of him.

Now, nearing his apartment, the gravity of his situation starts to clench tightly around Zayn’s heart. How _exactly_ is he supposed to do this? He’s gone to a support meeting, but now what? He’d been so nervous and exhausted and excited by the whole thing that he didn’t stick around to...well..what exactly? Confess? Check into a hospital? Force someone to lock him away for a week while he got it all out of his system? He’d known he’d have to take some sort of action but looking back on it now he’s starting to regret not being more forthcoming. Everyone had seemed so cheery and secure with their addiction; and then there was Zayn, still slightly hungover from the past weekend’s bender. He’d been too distracted to really pay attention to what Simon was saying after the meeting and now he knows he must have surely missed something, some person he can call, a place he can go.

As Zayn gets closer to home he wonders whether there were always so many bars near his apartment? He's surrounded. He looks around and at every corner there's something to remind him of alcohol. A liquor store, an unnecessarily large advertisement for some new brand of flavored vodka. Zayn picks up his pace, finally arriving back at his apartment. He shuts the door behind himself, locking both locks and slumping to the ground, too exhausted from the afternoon's events to even make it to the couch.

What is he supposed to do now? There are four days until the next official AA meeting and at this rate Zayn feels like he'll be lucky if he makes it through the night.

Out of desperation Zayn pulls out his phone and types "how to quit drinking cold turkey" into the search bar. He clicks through to one of the first links, an official-looking self help website. He reads a bit before he realizes he's missed something painfully obvious: getting rid of all the alcohol in his apartment. He isn’t even safe inside his own home.

Zayn knows immediately what he has to do but the thought of it sends chills down his spine and covers his arms in goosebumps. He'll have to get rid of all of, every last drop. He’s left paralyzed for minutes just imagining it. His life for the past three years going down the drain and into a trash bin.

Zayn remains crouched on the tile floor of the entryway to his apartment, a layer of cold sweat beginning to drip down from his temples. For how long he’s unable to tell. It could be seconds, it could be hours. He starts to feel jittery unable to fully control how fast his fingers seem to be drumming on the floor below him. Despite his agitation now, he’s too afraid of what he might do to move from his position. He might stay like this forever, wasting away because that’s what he deserves. Because what has he really even done?

He has slowly been killing himself, drinking himself into oblivion and he hasn’t even bothered to properly admit he has a problem to his own family. Sneaking out to get wasted whenever he visited home and trying to pass off a hangover as teenage brooding. But truth be told there was no real reason for him to do all this. Zayn had a great childhood. He’d always been close with his family. They had supported him in any avenue he wanted to pursue. They had pushed him to do well in school so he could get a scholarship and go to university. It had all seemed to be working so well until he managed to royally fuck everything over. He has gone down this path and now the only choices ahead of him are to turn back, revealing what a screw up he’s become and hurting everyone he cares about in the process, or continue, wrapped in the warm swaddle of alcohol until his body quits for him.

Zayn snaps back into reality for a moment, now drenched in sweat and shivering all over. He knows he has to do something but but crippling fear now has a firm grasp on his heart and with each breath Zayn feels that grasp clench tighter, seeming to make him more thoroughly glued to the now wet tile floor underneath his shivering body.

Eventually Zayn gathers up the strength to at least check his phone for the time. He’s been out of it for so long he it could be morning for all he knows. He reaches into the pocket of his jeans but instead of his phone his hands find somethings soft and soggy.

He pulls out a damp napkin with a number scrawled across it. Liam. Images of Liam’s cheery face begin to swim through Zayn’s mind. He’d been so happy, so together, so very much the opposite of everything Zayn is feeling right now. And yet, Liam is also an alcoholic. He’d said it so casually in front of a group of people like it was the most normal thing in the world. Easy as telling someone your year at university about your specialty or the name of your childhood pet.

But maybe that meant Liam had some answers, maybe Liam could help? The last thing Zayn wanted for Liam to see him in such a mess, but at this point, plastered to the ground in his own sweat, he didn’t have many other choices.

Zayn looks down at the smeared number on the napkin. _Call me any time!_ Liam had scrawled under the number.

Fine then. Zayn searches his other pocket with weak hands, fumbling for a moment until he is able to extract his phone from his pocket. With trembling fingers he dials the number. He presses the phone to his ear and waits while it rings and rings, the sound of it louder than it should be and sending throbbing pangs through his eardrums. What if Liam doesn’t pick up? What if he can’t help Zayn? What if Zayn is stuck here on the floor forever?

Zayn’s train of thought is interrupted by a low voice on the other end of the line which Zayn almost recognizes. “Helloooo there...Who’s this then?” The husky voice purrs, nearly drowned out by a load of background noise. He must be somewhere busy .

“Um,” Zayn manages to cough, his mouth parched and sour with sick and nervousness. “Wait, Liam?”

“Noo, this is Liam,” the voice coos.

Just then, there’s some shuffling on the other end of the line and Zayn hears another voice. “HARRY, what on earth are you doing with my phone? Who is that?”

“I dunno, mate but he sounds pretty confused. I think he thinks he’s you, Liam.”

After a bit more shuffling and struggling a breathy voice pants, “Hello? Who’s this? I apologize for Harry just now, can’t leave my phone to go use the toilet for five measly minutes apparently.”

“Yeah, uh, don’t worry,” Zayn replies. “It’s Zayn Malik, from uh--”

“Zayn! How’s it going, man? Didn’t expect to hear from you so soon! Just got done with dinner with the boys unfortunately if that’s what you were calling about. We’re all about to leave for Niall’s to play with his...on his...to play some games on the Wii if you wanted to join, though?”

“Oh,” Zayn starts, “Never mind then I just thought that...”

“Are you feeling alright, Zayn?” Liam interrupts again, “You don’t sound so good.”

“I don’t know. I’m just...it’s my first night doing this and I feel quite ill and I’ve been sitting in my doorway for over an hour apparently and I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Hey, Zayn, it’s okay.” Liam’s voice is clearer now, he must have moved to a quieter area. “I’m glad you called. What do you need? Do you want me to come meet you?”

“I mean, it sounds like you have plans...”

“Zayn, don’t be silly, watching Niall beat everybody on Super Smash Brothers again is hardly a plan.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“Zayn, I want to. I’ve been there before and I want to help you anyway I can.”

Zayn’s chest heaves in relief. “Thank you.”

“Any time, Zayn. Text me your address and I’ll be right over.”

It’s only about ten minutes after Zayn hangs up the phone that he hears a firm knock on his apartment door. Zayn struggles to his feet, steadying himself against the wall for support. He attempts to straighten up his shirt for a moment but really what’s the use? There’s no fixing what he looks like right now. He manages to unlock the door and open it before he crumples to the ground, passing out in front of an unsuspecting Liam.

The next thing he knows, Zayn is sprawled out on the couch with Liam hovering over him, pressing a damp cloth to Zayn’s forehead and looking down at the mess before him.

“Zayn,” Liam sighs, “You had me worried for a moment, man! What a welcome!” Zayn furrows his brow in confusion. “Right, not the time for jokes is it?” Liam pauses to wet the cloth again in a bowl of water now sitting on top of some comics Zayn has strewn about his coffee table. “Zayn, can you tell me what happened?”

It takes a minute before Zayn is coherent enough to form a sentence, “Nothing really I guess. I just got home from the meeting and I panicked and started to feel sick and I couldn’t move and I realized how hard this is all going to be. I just...Have no idea where to begin?”

“You did the right thing calling someone, Zayn. This process is step by step, second by second, and the beginning is brutal.”

“How do I even start?” Zayn croaks, tears welling up in his eyes.

“We’ll get to that. But first things first we need to get you cleaned up and comfortable. When’s the last time you ate?”

“Um, around noon, I guess?”

“Right then, well I’ve got some leftover pizza and I won’t take no for an answer so you give me a minute and I’ll be right back.” Zayn watches Liam as he scurries around his small apartment, somehow knowing exactly where everything is without Zayn telling him. “Okay, we’ll have to sit up for this part unfortunately but it’ll be worth it! If you haven’t had a slice of Tony’s pizza then you’ve clearly been missing out”

Liam sets a plate with two sizzling slices of pizza in front of Zayn. Now that Zayn is sitting up he realizes he is quite famished. He gets through a slice before the exhaustion hits.

“That’s alright for now, Zayn,” Liam offers when he sees that Zayn has hit a wall. “Sobering up is a very physical process. You’ll have to take it slow. When was the last time you had a drink?”

Zayn has to think seriously for a moment before he can even process the question. He figures it was yesterday afternoon but that seems like ages ago.

“Yesterday afternoon,” Zayn responds. “Happy hour with my art history course.”

“And nothing today?”

“No,” Zayn swallows, “nothing.”

“Right then. These next couple of days will definitely be tough, physically and emotionally, but if you need me to, I can help you out.”

“You don’t need to --”

“Judging by the state you’re in Zayn I don’t think you really know what you need right now. I’m happy to help as long as you promise me that you’ll stick with it, deal?”

“...deal.”

“Ok, great! Now, what made you so upset to begin with? Was it the meeting?”

Zayn frowns, trying to wade his way through the foggy haze of the past evening. “Not exactly. I was feeling pretty good after the meeting to be honest, until I got here.”

“What was it, then?”

Zayn’s body tenses when he remembers, “I wanted to...to try to get rid of all my alcohol, so I wouldn’t drink it. But...I couldn’t do it.”

“Hmmm.” Liam ponders for a moment, before clapping his hands in triumph. “Well, I’ll just have to get rid of it for you! No use trying to get you sober if you’ve got a bottle within arm’s reach. Now let’s see - if I were Zayn Malik, where would I store my alcohol?” Liam wanders around the apartment, opening every cabinet in the kitchen removing two bottles of vodka and one of rum and placing them on the countertop. “Okay,” Liam continues, surveying the stash on the counter, “Impressive. But we’re not through yet are we?”

Zayn shakes his head, embarrassed, from where he’s still lying on the couch. Liam exits the kitchen and paces the living room until he reaches the large case where Zayn houses his record player. Liam opens some of the drawers until - “Jackpot!” Liam removes a couple of handles of whiskey from the deep depths of the cabinet and takes them back to the kitchen.

“What are you going to do?” Zayn asks nervously, heart beating wildly at the thought that Liam would - no - Zayn gasps as he watches Liam screw off the first cap and dump an entire bottle of vodka down the drain. And another, and another. Before Zayn can protest, Liam has emptied the remnants of five bottles into the kitchen sink. Even from where Zayn is on the couch he can smell the pungent sting of alcohol wafting from the kitchen into the living room. The scent is intoxicating but nauseating and reminds Zayn of the massive headache that is still pulsing throughout the entirety of his skull.

And then it’s all over. Liam is collecting the empty bottles and placing them in the trash bin which he immediately takes to the dumpster outside.

Liam enters Zayn’s apartment again, rinsing his hands and wiping them off on his jeans. “Well, now that that matter is taken care of, how are you feeling, Zayn?”

“Better, I guess,” Zayn says. “Exhausted.”

“Makes sense. The first day isn’t easy for anyone. Let’s get you cleaned up and send you to bed then?”

Before Zayn can object, Liam scoops Zayn up from the couch, supporting his whole weight and guiding Zayn’s arm over his shoulder so he can walk him to his bedroom. Zayn manages to point Liam to the right dresser and Liam pulls out a fresh t-shirt and some sweatpants

“Right,” Liam stares at Zayn for a bit before realizing himself and quickly looking away. “I’ll let you get changed then.” Liam closes the door behind him and leaves Zayn sitting on the edge of his bed, slightly dizzy now but otherwise fine. With great effort he disrobes and puts on the clean clothes, immediately collapsing onto his bed with a sigh after he finishes.

“You decent, Zayn?” Liam asks through the door. Before waiting for a response, he cracks the door open, peeking into the room, where he sees Zayn fast asleep, lying diagonally across the bed. Liam approaches the bed, watching the heavy rise and fall of Zayn’s chest. He stands like that, watching this strange young man for longer than he should, until he reaches down to move some blankets over Zayn, tucking them gently over his narrow frame.

The next morning, Zayn’s head is throbbing and his stomach aches. He aches everywhere and yet this feels nothing like any hangover he’s ever experienced. He feels like complete shit but the slimy film from having one drink too many is absent from his mouth and mind. He shifts in the sheets as he tries to figure out what happened last night.

He’d been such a mess after the meeting and now the whole evening was a blur of sweat and tears and sick and...Liam? Zayn pushes himself up on his elbows and wonders whether that was a dream or not. “Liam?” he calls out

There is no response. Zayn manages to lift himself out of his bed and shuffle to the kitchen. The air still smells faintly of eight different types of liquor from when Liam emptied them all out. On the the counter there is a note.

_Zayn,_

_Stayed over last night in case you needed something. Hope that’s ok. Hope you’re ok. I have class but call me if you need ANYTHING. It was a rough night but don’t worry. You’ve got this. I’ll be ‘round later to check on you_

_Liam_

Zayn re-reads the note a few times before setting it back on the counter. ‘You’ve got this,’ he tells himself, and maybe, if Liam sticks around, he just might make it through the next couple of days.

The next week is the hardest thing Zayn has ever had to do. Each day brings a new temptation for Zayn. He’s a wreck, physically and emotionally, but every time he needs anything, Liam is right there to help. Zayn doesn’t know what he did to deserve this kind of help but he also knows that without Liam there to call, to distract him, to make him eat, to make sure he kept himself busy - that he wouldn’t have made it past the first night without breaking. He also feels lucky to have school as a distraction, to be able to focus his energy on something other than the aching desire he feels to drink every day.

However, Zayn knows that with the weekend looming over the horizon, he’ll face a new challenge: making it through a weekend without getting drunk. That’s why he signs himself up for some extra tutoring hours on Friday evening. Perhaps with work as a distraction, he’ll be able to ignore the fact that he has literally never spent a weekend at university without drinking his way through it.

Zayn is nervous when he returns to his apartment after work and school at around 8:30 because he still has the whole evening ahead of him. “You’ve got this,” he imagines Liam saying. And tonight, he does. Zayn spends the rest of the evening cleaning up his mess of an apartment and working on some sketches he started ages ago. Perhaps being sober on a Friday night wouldn’t be so bad. He can’t remember the last time he felt so productive.

A wave of exhaustion hits Zayn around midnight and he drifts off to sleep, a new sense of optimism and accomplishment valiantly battling the ugly negative demons that had set up camp in the pit of his stomach so long ago.

\-----

Zayn wakes with a start to the sound of...a whistle? He opens an eye to look over at his clock. 6 AM. Whoever dared to wake him up at this ungodly, unnatural hour will surely have hell to pay. He looks up and sees a broad figure towering over his bed.

“Up and at ‘em, Malik!” A cheery voice bellows.

Zayn groans. “Liam? What are you doing here? How did you get in my apartment?”

“Hide-a-key rock, Zayn? Really? You’ve got to step up your game, man! What if I had been a robber, or a predator?”

The way Liam looks right now, wearing a tight white t-shirt and grey sweatpants sitting loosely on his hipbones, Zayn feels more like the predator. He immediately grabs his blankets from where they’d ended up bunched around his feet last night to hide the fact that the mere sight of Liam like this first thing in the morning was so terrifying and wonderful he’d gotten slightly hard.

“No time for chit chat, I’m afraid, we’ve got a busy morning ahead of us,” Liam continues, ripping off the blankets Zayn had just covered himself with. Is that a megaphone he’s holding?

Zayn rolls over, attempting to curl himself against the wall to preserve some semblance of dignity and warmth.

“Today we’ll be enacting Phase One of the Payne Plan for Recovery! To truly overcome your addiction, you’re going to need to rebuild, soul and body. You’re weak, Malik, and I’m here to make you strong again...starting with that scrawny body of yours.”

Zayn isn’t sure whether he should laugh, cry, or just play dead. In the interim, he pulls a pillow over his head, which Liam immediately pulls off and tosses aside. “UP!” Liam gives a deafening shout through the megaphone. “Put on some clothes and meet me downstairs in five minutes.”

Zayn grumbles to himself as he grabs a sweatshirt and some sneakers. It’s not that he minds Liam coming over, he’s happy to spend some more time getting to know him now that he’s not a sweaty mess trying to get all the alcohol out of his system, but some warning would have been nice. Also he’ll have to mention that if Liam ever comes ‘round this early again, he’ll be forced to install a security system.

He locks up his apartment and makes his way out to the parking lot where Liam is waiting, jogging in place somehow still managing to hold his megaphone, a gym bag, and what appears to be a stack of orange traffic cones. Liam thrusts the cones to Zayn’s chest.

“What am I supposed to do with these?” Zayn asks, already struggling with the weight of them.

“I dunno, Zayn, maybe carry them? Wear them as a hat? Actually, I might like to see that...oh, nevermind! I don’t really care, as long as you keep up!” And then Liam’s off running, across the street before Zayn can even process what’s happened. Zayn would struggle to keep up with Liam on a good day but carrying the cones makes it nearly impossible.

After they’ve run what seems like miles, they arrive at an empty field just as the sun is coming up over the horizon. When Liam stops at the edge of the field to stretch, Zayn takes the opportunity to throw himself down on the still dewy grass.

There’s a pain in Zayn’s side like he’s never felt before. He’s laying down, curled in on himself, gasping for air and on the verge of retching up last night’s dinner all over the sidelines. He’s only just managed to get his breathing under control when he’s heaving again - Liam. Having started off his stretching with an obscene move gave Zayn a breathtaking view of his backside, Liam now moves on to stretching his triceps, his back rippling gracefully through his sweaty t-shirt. After a moment, Liam looks up from where he’s stretching and over at Zayn. He’s grinning. Like he gets some sick pleasure from seeing Zayn like this. He’d be angry with Liam, except it’s impossible to angry with Liam. Liam, who looks like an angel standing over him, his head blocking the rising sun so perfectly that there is actually a halo around it.

“Come on then, Zayn,” Liam extends a hand to pull Zayn up from the ground,. “I’m not nearly done with you yet!”

“What?” Zayn coughs.

“What did you think the cones were for? Decoration? Come on and help me set them up.”

With wobbly legs, Zayn gets up and begins to help Liam place the cones in a line along the field. “What now?” Zayn asks.

“Now the real fun begins...” Liam winks. And for the next hour Liam pushes Zayn harder than any human has the right to. He trudges through various drills around the cones, jumping, squatting, running up the bleachers. All the while with Liam lounging on the grass, soaking in the morning sun as a delicious sweaty sheen formed over his forehead and arms, occasionally getting up to bark orders at Zayn through the megaphone.

At some point Liam pulls out his iPod and portable speakers from his gym bag to put on some music. That’s it. If Liam is just going to chill out at the park all day while torturing Zayn like this he could at least play some decent music.

“Listen,” Zayn pants, stepping down from doing yet another set of bleachers, “if you’re gonna play music in public like this, at least don’t subject people to Kelly Clarkson. Do you have anything else?”

“Zayn.” Liam’s eyes narrow. “How dare you talk about Miss Clarkson like that. She is a lovely woman. And I’ll have you know I chose this tune for a very specific reason.”

“‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?’ Real subtle, Liam. We’re alcoholics, we’ve got to learn from it, I get it.”

Liam chuckles. “Nice critical reading of the song, man, I’m inspired! But in all honesty it wasn’t actually anything as deep as that - I just meant it to be your grand ‘race to the finish’ song...but it seems like you could use another set of laps around the field right about now, wouldn’t you agree?” Who knew Liam had such a sadistic streak? He might actually be trying to kill Zayn.

“But I--” Zayn stops himself when Liam looks him dead in the eyes. Liam raises a thick eyebrow, attempting what was probably meant to look like a threatening challenge but in reality ends up making him look more like a confused puppy.

“Come on then, I’ll do this set with you! We’re almost there.” How could Zayn say no to that? Liam slaps Zayn on his lower back, so dangerously close to his ass it shocks him back into motion, still managing to blush despite how flushed he already was from the past hour of suffering.

Zayn and Liam run alongside each other, despite the fact that Zayn knows Liam has to slow himself down to keep pace with him. They run like that for a while until Liam veers away from the field.

“Does this mean we’re done?” Zayn gasps clutching his side as they wait for the crosswalk they’ve now reached to change.

“Not quite yet,” Liam says, “I’ve got something I want to show you.” Liam gestures to set of woods in the distance. Zayn had seen it before when passing through this neighborhood, but never really had a reason to investigate it. He had always assumed it was just a place where teenagers would go to get wasted and mess around and, well, he didn’t need a special place to do that.

Liam sees Zayns face fall and sighs. “But I suppose we can walk from here. I reckon you’ve had enough.”

Liam and Zayn make their way to the edge of the woods. It’s strange how there could be such thick woods so close to the city, Zayn thinks. Really it’s amazing that this area has managed to stay like this, a secret haven tucked away from the hectic buzz of the surrounding city life. Zayn follows Liam into a patch of trees. Liam seems to know where he’s going, moving swiftly through the thick vegetation.

They walk for a few more minutes until they reach a bit of a clearing. Zayn can hear the creek before he can see it. He hears the soft babble of slowly moving water and takes several steps forward before he sees it. This must be it, the place Liam wanted him to see.

Just ahead, there is an old bridge. It seems unnecessary to have one given the size of the stream but somehow it fits in perfectly. So worn down and covered in plant life that at this point it almost looks like it’s part of the woods.

Liam hops up on the bridge waiting for Zayn to join him. Zayn takes an unsteady step towards the edge of the water. The bridge doesn’t look like it could hold one person, let alone two.

“Trust me, Zayn” Liam calls, “The bridge will be fine. Are you really that concerned about falling into less than a foot of water?”

“Alright, hold on.” Zayn nearly trips on a large tree root before he reaches the water and situates himself on the bridge next to Liam, who’s now sitting on the bridge’s edge, feet dangling over the water.

They stay like that for a while, Zayn leaning against Liam’s solid frame for support, breath slowing as he drifts off to sleep, listening to the sound of the stream passing slowly by.

Zayn wakes suddenly, his head nestled against Liam’s warm, scruffy neck. Liam has his arm wrapped around Zayn’s exhausted body, slowly making circles on Zayn’s back with the palm of his hand.

“Oh, god. How long was I asleep?”

“Don’t worry about it. You were out for maybe five minutes.”

Zayn sighs. “Yeah, sorry about that. I don’t think I’ve ever worked out that hard in my life, Liam.”

“I could tell,” Liam says, giving Zayn a cheeky grin.

“Hey!” Zayn shoves Liam playfully, causing Liam to nearly fall into the water. They spend the next few minutes like that, pushing and pulling and tickling and rolling around on mossy earth until they’re both sprawled out over the length of the bridge, laughing so hard that tears stream down both of their faces.

Liam sits up, still catching his breath, and stares intently at Zayn. “What?” Zayn asks.

“I hope you don’t think I pushed you too much today. You know you could tell me to back off if you really didn’t want to do something?”

“Yeah, I know. But truth be told, I think I needed someone to kick my ass into gear. I guess I’m more of a weakling than I thought.”

“I don’t think you’re weak, Zayn. I think you’re a lot stronger than you know. I pushed you so hard today because I knew you could do it. But I also made you do all those drills because I wanted you to show you how tough this is going to be.”

“What do you mean?” Zayn frowns.

“I mean that, like today, as a recovering alcoholic, you’re going to have to face a number of different challenges, each one different and more ridiculous than the last. Problems will take you by surprise, and you’re going to be faced with a choice: Revert back to your old ways or power through it and try something new. But you won’t only be surprised by the challenges you face, you’ll be surprised with yourself. You’re changing, Zayn, I can already see it. And this new you might not be someone you recognize, or someone your old self would even like. So I want you to know that...I like you Zayn. I liked you when I met you, I like you now, and I know I’ll like the person you grow into. I want you to know that I’ll support you the best I can. Whenever you feel that little devil on your shoulder, I want you to know you can turn to the other one and I’ll be there for you, if you need me.”

It’s then that the idea comes to Zayn, so obvious he’s kicking himself for not thinking of it before “Liam?” he asks.

“Yeah, Zayn?”

“Would you...will you be my sponsor?”

Liam embraces Zayn in the most euphoric hug Zayn has ever experienced. Liam’s body fitting so perfectly with Zayn’s, like a piece of himself he never knew was missing. They’re both tearing up now, but not from tickling or laughing.

“I’d be honored.”

\-----

Zayn frowns at himself in the mirror. He’s been getting ready for almost an hour now, but changing his t-shirt doesn’t seem to change the fact that he looks like complete and utter shit. He’s not sure if he always looked like this or if he’d just been too drunk to notice or care in years past. It’s hard to pull off the look of brooding party boy when, in reality, you’re stone cold sober. Zayn glances at the clock after applying one last bit of product to his quiff. It’ll have to do. He’ll be late if sticks around much longer. He knows it’s not terribly important that he make a good impression considering it’s just going for dinner with a bunch of recovering alcoholics, but Zayn really does want the boys to like him.

Not that Liam hasn’t been great. Zayn’s only known Liam for around two weeks but it feels like a lifetime. Whenever Zayn has needed something Liam has never been more than a phone call away. Whatever Zayn needs, whether it’s 2 am and Zayn wakes up in a cold sweat, aching for a drink, or just chilling out and watching a movie for some distraction, Liam is happy to help. Liam, who is so kind and ready to help someone he just met through one of the toughest periods of his life. Zayn knows he can rely on Liam, and to be honest he doesn’t know if he’d have even gotten this far if it hadn’t been for him. However, Zayn knows he needs to get out of his comfort zone. It’s something Liam keeps telling Zayn. He’ll have to push himself if he wants to make more progress. So as much as he might rather just hang out with Liam all night, Zayn figures it’s best he tries something new.

Zayn takes another glance in the mirror before rushing out the door. He walks a few blocks over to Tony’s Pizza, so nervous it takes him half the time it should to get there. He’s almost ten minutes early so he decides to wait outside and pretend to text someone until somebody else shows up. Niall is the next to arrive, greeting Zayn with a surprisingly strong slap on the back, followed by Liam, and finally Harry and Louis, who arrive together, arguing animatedly about something but still holding hands.

The all squeeze in the door and wait while a hostess gathers up some menus and leads them to their table.

Once they’ve all settled in, all five of them somehow managing to cram into a small booth in the corner, their waitress, a short brunette with flashy buttons adorning a pair of black suspenders, approaches.

“Hi boys! My name’s Demetria...” Niall coughs out a laugh but collects himself quickly when she shoots him a frightening glare, “but you can call me Demi, and I’ll be taking care of you today. Can I get y’all started with anything to drink today? Happy hour lasts till seven if you’re interested. All drafts half off!”

The table falls silent for a moment until Liam clears his throat. “Just water for me, Demi, thanks.”

“Same,” Louis and Niall echo.

“Um, yeah, water’s good,” Zayn mumbles.

Finally, the waitress turns to Harry. “What a bunch of sour sports this lot are, eh?” Harry gestures exasperatedly before taking a moment to straighten himself up in his seat so he can lean in close. “Demi, if you would, I’ll take your finest Shirley Temple...on the rocks, if you please.”

“Um...sure,” Demi replies, returning her order pad to her back pocket with a quirk of her eyebrow. “I’ll give y’all a couple more minutes to look at the menu.”

She’s only a few steps away when Niall bursts out laughing, doubled over from where he’s been squished against the wall in the corner of the booth.

Louis rolls his eyes. “Jesus, Harry, we can’t take you anywhere.”

“Hey!” Harry gasps, clutching a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Just because you can’t handle your sugar doesn’t mean you’ve got to ruin everyone else’s fun! It’s Friday night and I’ll be damned if I don’t let loose!” Harry pounds his large fist down on the table, knocking over a napkin holder and startling some poor waitress passing by with a tray full of drinks so much she almost spills them all over the floor.

Louis’ eyes narrow in on Harry’s face before his own softens into a smile, “Right...Well, moving on! Zayn, so glad you could finally join us! I’d thought you were avoiding us. After the meetings, you always run off so quickly.”

“But Liam has said nothing but good things, of course,” Harry adds.

“Really?” Zayn steals a glance at Liam, who gives Zayn a wink so quickly he almost wonders if he imagined it, before going back to fiddling with the napkin in his lap.

“Sure!” Niall chimes in. “We’re glad you could finally make it out with us.”

“So Zayn,” Louis continues, “tell us about yourself. Aside from the fact that Liam has now taken you on as a pet project--”

“Rephrase, Louis,” Liam interjects with a stern look.

Louis rolls his eyes, barely missing a beat “...As your sponsor then, we really don’t know all that much about you. You said your specialty was English? Do you write?”

“Yeah, sometimes I suppose,” Zayn shrugs. “I’m also pretty into drawing. Stuff like comics and that.”

“You should see Zayn’s place,” Liam interrupts. “Drawings all over the place. Really quite amazing, if you ask me.”

“Erm.. thanks?” Zayn smiles. He didn’t even think that Liam had noticed this drawings, let alone liked them.

“Well, well, well! We’ve got an artist type, eh?” Louis’ grin turns from pleasant to predatory in seconds, “Perfect! You’ll have to help me out with the set for my first production.”

“Ha! Production?” Niall coughs, choking on his water momentarily as he stifles another laugh

“Yes, production! I’m directing my first play this semester, a unique take on the Shakespearean classic, ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream.’”

“For four to seven year olds,” Niall interrupts.

“...and I need someone with an artistic eye to help out with the set.”

“I don’t know if I’d be any good at that,” Zayn says.

“Nonsense! You’d be perfect! It’s settled then. Niall’s already agreed to help out with lighting and transition music so you’ll be in good company. Don’t worry, we’ve got till the end of term so we’ll have plenty of time to talk about our grand strategy before we all get swamped with exams.”

At this point it’s clear from Niall’s resigned shrug that resistance is futile. Zayn’s only spoken with Louis a couple of times, but it’s obvious Louis has a way of getting what he wants.

“Yeah, okay. Why not?” Zayn shrugs.

“Good man!” Louis holds out a hand across the table. Zayn shakes it, a bit weary of the firmness of Louis’ grip and the manic look in his eyes, but too concerned with getting the boys to like him to turn back now.

“Hope you know what you’re getting yourself into...” Harry raises an eyebrow before thanking Demi, who’s just delivered his Shirley Temple. He immediately sticks a few fingers in the glass, pulling out a pair of cherries floating between some of the ice towards the top. He pops the cherries in his mouth with a grin, “Hey wanna see something cool I can do with my tongue?”

“I can think of several,” Louis tilts his head to gaze over at Harry, whose cheeks flush momentarily but who seems otherwise unphased. Harry furrows his brow in concentration moving his mouth around strangely for several minutes, the boys watching in silent curiosity. It looks like he’s trying to tie the cherry stem in a knot but he is clearly struggling, holding up a finger every so often to try to keep the table’s attention.

“Wake me when he does something interesting,” Niall sighs and snuggles himself up against the wall in the corner of the booth, closing his eyes and pretending to fall asleep.

“Hey!” Harry gives up and plunges his hand in his drink, extracting another cherry, putting it in his mouth, and spitting it over Louis’ head and directly into Niall’s eye socket. Niall retaliates, sticking his hand in his water to grab some ice and shove it down the front of Harry’s shirt. The entire table quickly devolves into a fit of laughter, each of them eventually covered in a wet sticky mess, smiling guiltily like five year olds when the waitress finally comes back to take their order.

The rest of the evening passes quickly, the boys chatting about nothing and stuffing their faces with pizza. Zayn hopes the other boys feel as comfortable around him as he does them already. He could get used to this. When he’s with the boys like this, laughing and joking, he doesn’t even think of taking a drink, despite the fact that people are sipping on beer only a few feet away. They’re an odd bunch but Zayn feels like he fits in. Seeing how happy they all are - Niall’s exuberance, how Louis and Harry just fit so naturally together, Liam’s quiet leadership - makes Zayn want to continue on in his recovery process. Their contentedness gives Zayn confidence that the future might not be so boring without booze after all.  
They make Zayn hopeful, they make Zayn want to be better.

After a while, Niall and Harry battle it out for the last slice of pizza. Niall fights valiantly but is ultimately defeated when Harry uses one of his giant hands to smush Niall’s head against the wall of the booth as he shovels the pizza into his mouth.

The check comes and each of the boys begin to pull out their wallets. Zayn is about to pull out his credit card when he feels Liam’s hand catch his wrist. “Don’t worry about it Zayn, my treat!”

“I can’t let you do that, it’s okay.”

“You hear that?” Louis pipes up, stuffing his own wallet back into his jeans. “Liam’s treat!”

“That’s not what I--” Liam starts, but decides against continuing when Louis raises a challenging eyebrow. “Oh alright then, why not? Dinner’s on me tonight, boys!” Liam throws down some cash and hands the bill to Demi when she walks by again.

Afterwards Harry, Louis, Liam, and Zayn shuffle outside into the parking lot while Niall stays behind to get Demi’s number. “See you at the next meeting, yeah?” Harry asks with a wave, opening the passengers side door to Louis’ car.

“Yeah, definitely! Later!” Zayn waves back at Harry and Louis through the windshield.

“Don’t have too much fun without us!” Louis yells through his window right before his car screeches and speeds away down the street.

“You need a ride?” Liam asks Zayn, jingling his keys and nodding to where his car is parked a few spaces over

“Um...That’s alright. I walked here and it’s really not that far.”

“Oh, nonsense! What kind of friend would I be if I made you walk home in the dark and cold like this?”

“What about Niall?” Zayn asks.

“Niall? I don’t think he’s going home any time soon.” Liam gestures over to the side alley of the restaurant where Demi has Niall pressed up against the brick wall, aggressively grabbing tufts of his blonde hair while they make out furiously behind some garbage bins.

“Ah, I see,” Zayn chuckles, “Well, yeah then, a ride would be great”

They head over to Liam’s car, Liam walking a few paces ahead to unlock the passenger’s side door and open it for Zayn.

“Thanks,” Zayn shuffles around Liam awkwardly before sliding in and fastening his seat belt. Liam settles himself in, putting the keys in the ignition and reaching back behind Zayn’s seat to rummage around on the floor before pulling out a disc labeled “Badman Tunes.”

Liam pushes the disc into the CD player and starts off down the road as the first notes of “Bad Religion” begin to fill the car.

Zayn smiles. “You like Frank Ocean?”

“Absolutely! He’s amazing, right?” Liam sings along softly and taps his fingers on the steering wheel.

The song finishes as Liam pulls into the parking lot of Zayn’s complex. Liam shuts off the car and he and Zayn sit in silence for a moment before he and Zayn start talking at once - “We should--” Liam starts, but trails off when Zayn begins, “I had a great--Oh sorry, no, you go.”

“No, really, go ahead,” Liam turns to face Zayn.

“I just had a really great time tonight, is all,” Zayn finishes with a shy smile.

“Me too.” Liam smiles exuberantly and leans in for a hug but is cut off by his seatbelt. Zayn unclips himself from his own belt and leans across to the driver’s side to pull Liam into an awkwardly positioned embrace, pulling off quickly when his elbow accidentally honks the horn.

“Right then, I’d better be going,” Zayn adjusts himself and swings his door open, “Thanks again, Liam...for everything.”

“My pleasure,” Zayn hears Liam say before he shuts the door a bit too forcefully on accident and nearly sprints back to his apartment.

Zayn throws himself onto his bed still in his clothes, heart still beating a little fast, and thinks of Liam as he drifts off to sleep.

\-----

With school, work, and helping out Louis, Zayn finds that his days are busy from dawn ‘till dusk. He still manages, however, to find time to check in with Liam, meeting him for coffee or a run most mornings and discussing his progress. With Liam though, Zayn soon realizes it’s impossible to talk about just recovery. Zayn wants to discuss everything with Liam, his family, his life back home, his goals. He’s almost late for class several times, getting caught up in their conversations. Liam just makes it all so easy. He listens and never judges. He laughs at Zayn’s stupid jokes but never at Zayn’s stupid mistakes.

When Zayn looks in the mirror, he can see himself changing. Maybe there’s more color in his cheeks, maybe it’s because he’s not so hungover in the morning he actually bothers to run a comb through his hair before he leaves the apartment, maybe he’s just got a healthier glow now that Liam actually forces him to work out with him now and again. Whatever it is, he's not the only one who notices. Even just over the first few months of Zayn working his way through the program, his classmates and professors start to see a change in him. He’s participating more in class, earning better marks, starting to build good relationships with his instructors and peers. He’s got so much extra time on his hands now that he even decides to pick up a drawing course a few nights a week.

Zayn’s life isn’t perfect by anyone’s standards but things seem to finally be falling into place. He calls his family more often, reconnecting with his mother and sisters, and, for the first time in a long time, his father. Having never shared the extent of his drinking with his family, he’s not sure exactly what they make of his transformation, but whether they ever knew about his alcoholism or not they can definitely see he’s begun to make positive changes. For once when he Skypes with his sisters or chats on the phone with his mum and dad he doesn’t feel like he’s hiding some big secret. Granted, he’s still hiding the fact that he’s in a recovery program for the alcoholism they might not have even known about but at least now he doesn’t have to hide the reality of his drinking from them. Taking thirty minutes out of his day to catch up won’t interrupt his precious drinking schedule, which, if Zayn’s honest with himself, was any time, and more often than not, all of the time. So this, even if he’s not ready to share everything with his family just yet, is enough for Zayn.

Reconnecting with his own family has got Zayn curious about Liam. Despite the fact that they’ve only known each other a couple of months Zayn already considers Liam a part of his family, the family he’s chosen. But when he stops to think about how much he actually knows about Liam, other than that he’s a Master’s student studying to become a social worker with the abs of a Greek god and the heart of an angel, Zayn realizes he doesn’t know all that much about the new fixture in his life. He knows nothing about where he grew up, his family, old friends. Whenever they discuss this type of thing it’s always Zayn rambling about his own life. He feels a bit selfish now for never asking.

So one Saturday morning when Liam had surprised Zayn by coming over and cooking breakfast, as Zayn sits on his couch, half flipping through channels on the television and half watching Liam’s arms as he scrubs the grease from a skillet in the kitchen, Zayn decides to ask.

“Hey, Li?”

“Yeah, Zayn.”

“I was thinking about it and, well, you know so much about my family and my life, I’m starting to feel a little bad for never asking about yours.”

Liam turns off the faucet and sets down the skillet to dry. His face now scrunched up into an expression Zayn can’t quite read, he shrugs, “Well, there’s not that much to tell. Pretty normal life until university I suppose. Two older sisters. Mum and dad are great, really supportive early on but I guess at this point I’ve lost touch with them for the most part. That’s really my fault.”

“I’m sure that’s not true!” Zayn frowns, concerned with how quickly Liam’s cheery demeanor has changed. Liam’s face is pale, eyes shifting as he fidgets with various items on the countertop. Seeing Liam like this sends a shiver down Zayn’s spine. He wants to get up and wrap Liam in his arms but something tells him he should leave it be.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Zayn,” Liam gulps, “I might not be exactly who you think I am.”

“Alright then, tell me,” Zayn offers, deciding finally to hoist himself up off the couch and walk over to where Liam’s now rearranging the magnets on Zayn’s fridge. “You know that nothing you say could make me respect you any less, right? I mean for fuck’s sake, look at the state you’ve seen me in! Gimme something to work with here or I’m gonna have to assume you’re a robot specially programmed to help idiots like me kick their drinking habits.”

Zayn puts a comforting hand on Liam’s shoulder and rubs circles on his upper back. Liam manages a forced grin but remains tense under Zayn’s touch. “I just--” Liam begins, clearly struggling with something, “I’m just not sure I’m ready to rehash this stuff with you quite yet, Zayn. There are a lot of things I’ve done that I’m not proud of and I don’t think telling you everything about it would be helpful to your recovery process.”

Zayn’s heart sinks to the pit of his stomach. Perhaps he’d thought he was closer to Liam than he actually is. He feels foolish now for spilling all his intimate secrets with Liam for nothing in return. He’s hurt Liam thinks he can’t handle whatever it is he’s hiding.

Liam must see the pained expression on Zayn’s face because as quickly as the words have come out of his mouth, he’s cupped a warm hand behind Zayn’s neck and is staring intently into Zayn’s eyes. “But it’s not because I don’t trust you, Zayn. It’s because I know that recovery is a long process and I also know that at this point in my own recovery, I’m not ready to relive certain things yet.” Liam sighs, pulling Zayn into a deeper hug. “But I’ll get there, don’t worry.”

Zayn buries his face into the crook of Liam’s neck, breathing in the scent of laundry detergent and bacon grease and something Zayn can’t quite put his finger on that is so distinctly Liam.

“Now what do you say we go run off some of those pancakes we just scarfed down?” Liam chirps, breaking the hug but still grasping Zayn’s shoulders firmly so his arms are pinned to his sides. “Parking lot, five minutes.” Liam releases Zayn and gives him a quick slap on the arse before jogging out the front door.

Zayn follows soon after, still feeling a little unsettled but soon enough, wrapped up in the endorphins of his run and the soft cushion of Liam’s smile, he forgets the feeling. He’d love to know everything there is to know about Liam but he gets that if Liam doesn’t want to tell him there must be a reason.

The weeks before final exams pass in a whirlwind of Louis and paint and plywood. Zayn is unsure when exactly he became so invested in helping build the set for a production that in all likelihood will only be viewed by the overprotective parents of a bunch of five year olds, but if he can tell one thing about Louis already it’s that he got a vision, and anyone who dares to interfere might as well have a death wish.

In the days before the performance, Zayn helps Louis perfect the finishing touches of the set, a grandiose combination of trees, tulle, and other spectacular trimmings. Louis is hard to deal with at times, bossing Zayn and Niall around so much that even the children start to take pity on them, but when he becomes too much to handle, help is never more than a phone call to Harry away. Harry will come bounding in with a pizza for the kids and steal Louis away for a quick cuddle and thirty minutes later, he’s a whole new man.

By the time the Friday of the play’s premiere rolls around though, they’re all pretty on edge. It’s not that Zayn and Niall have any real stake in this play. But they know it means a tremendous amount to Louis. Louis has put his heart and soul into this silly little play and the boys want to see him succeed because they know how hard it is to go through recovery without a concrete silver lining to look forward to. This is Louis’ silver lining. It’s his dream to become a drama teacher and they want to help him however they can, so they’ll put up with the madness in the meantime. Louis, much like the other boys, Zayn is realizing, is always there for him when he needs them. It’s not quite the same as with Liam but Zayn knows that building relationships with the boys is an important part of him making it through this whole process. He needs the boys to lean on, and Zayn thinks they need him too. Zayn is glad they’ve accepted him so readily into their lives because honestly he can’t picture doing any of this without the support of the gang.

It’s an hour before curtain call and Louis is a mess. He’s been running around all day placing finishing touches on costumes and trying to focus the cast of excited children for long enough for them to get through one last dress rehearsal of the play. Zayn finds Louis in the elementary school’s locker rooms, which are doubling as dressing rooms for the production, adjusting the tutu on a fidgety fairy.

“That’ll have to do,” Louis gives a resigned sigh and sends the girl on her way, “But don’t you dare let me catch you messing about, Mandy, or you can bet I’ll take down one of your star student stickers” Louis yells after the small red-headed girl now scurrying down the corridor.

“How are you holding up, Lou? Need anything else from me or Niall?” Zayn asks as he pats Louis on the back

“I suppose what’s done is done” Louis says, still looking around nervously, searching for something else to tweak

“Great then! That’ll mean you’ve got five minutes to spare? The boys and I have a surprise for you”

“Zayn I’m sure whatever it is will be great but it’ll have to wait, we start in less than an hour”

“Too late!” Harry bellows, coming up behind Louis and locking his arms tightly around Louis’ middle. Niall and Liam are close behind. Liam holds up a shushing finger to his lips, signaling for Zayn to keep quiet as Niall places an ornate plastic crown atop Louis’ head.

“What on earth?” Louis tries to snatch at the crown but is thwarted by a tangle of arms and wet kisses from each of the boys all over his cheeks.

“To our own king of the fairies! Cheers, mate! We couldn’t be more proud of you” Niall coos.

“Save it till after the play’s actually over with, won’t you?” Louis groans, wiping the spit from his blushing cheeks

“Absolutely not!” Harry turns Louis around and plants a sloppy kiss on his lips, earning claps and whistles from the rest of the boys.

When Harry finally comes up for air, Louis looks around in a daze, “You lot off to your seats then!” He motions to Harry, Liam, and Zayn, who shuffle away, telling Louis to break a leg one last time before they shut the locker room door behind them. Niall stays behind to discuss some last minute lighting and sound issues with Louis.

Liam and Zayn make their way to the gymnasium, which for all intents and purposes has been transformed into a passable theatre, if you look past the basketball hoops still lowered on one end of the gym and the fact that the best seats they could afford were a mass of rickety plastic chairs set up in lines in front of the small stage Liam helped construct. They sit down in the second row of seats, which are quickly filling up with parents and siblings, most parents already setting some obnoxiously large cameras on tripods in the aisles. Harry is planted in a seat front and center, bouncing on the edge of his seat and straining his neck trying to sneak looks behind the curtain pulled around the stage.

A few minutes after they sit down the lights in the gym begin to dim and Niall’s voice booms through the speakers, the sound reverberating painfully in everyone’s eardrums initially but eventually leveling out once Niall fiddles with the levels, “Good evening ladies and gentlemen! Please take your seats. Summerfield elementary’s production of A Midsummer Night's Dream directed by Louis Tomlinson will begin momentarily. Please remember to silence all cell phones. Video cameras are welcome but please kindly refrain from using flash photography during tonight’s performance. And now, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show!”

Niall’s voice cuts off abruptly and is replaced immediately with the soft hum of hushed voices and people shifting in their seats as the room goes dark. Zayn hears the creak of the chair next to him as Liam stretches up his arm, readjusting himself in his seat and letting his arm drape casually over Zayn’s shoulder. Liam’s touch sends a flutter of warmth from where his hand is absentmindedly fiddling with the fray on the shoulder of Zayn’s denim jacket straight to Zayn’s chest. Zayn catches his breath before shifting closer to Liam, his back melting into Liam’s solid chest.

Zayn places a hand nervously on top of Liam’s thigh, taking in the feel of the muscles there before stealing a glance over his shoulder. Liam’s eyes twinkle with pride as the lights come up on the stage and the first notes of some beautiful string composition fill the gymnasium. Zayn could stay like this forever, nestled up against Liam, watching the fruits of Louis’ hard work spring to life before his eyes. Right now, he’s content. He’s happy.

The play is truly a marvel. Everything runs perfectly, aside from once when a very confused looking Puck comes on stage early, overshooting his cue by several minutes. Zayn is amazed by how much Louis has been able to accomplish over a few short months and his heart swells with pride and affection.

The gymnasium lights come up as the last twinkling notes of an Arcade Fire song fade out. The audience breaks into applause and Harry leads the crowd in a standing ovation. The kids stand excitedly in a line and begin to bow and curtsey out of sync with one another for several minutes before Louis finally comes on stage, proudly wearing his new crown and grinning ear to ear, to give one last sweeping bow.

As the crowd begins to filter out Liam, Zayn, Niall and Harry make their way behind the stage to pull Louis into a stifling group hug. After a thousand congratulations and pats on the back Louis finally breaks the embrace to start to clean up. Louis enlists the boys to start breaking down the stage as he goes to the dressing room to make sure all the costumes are put away correctly.

The boys work diligently cleaning up the gym under Louis’ watchful (bossy) eye for about an hour before Zayn decides he needs a break and sneaks out the side door to smoke a cigarette. Zayn blows out a large cloud of smoke when he hears the gym door close off to his left.

“You know I hate it when you smoke, Zayn,” Liam coughs dramatically, “It’s not good for you, you know?”

Zayn shrugs guiltily before flicking the cigarette to the ground, “Yeah, I’m aware.”

“Just lookin’ out, man.” Liam clutches Zayn’s shoulder, “What brings you out here anyway?  
Louis’ been looking for you for the past ten minutes.”

“Just needed a break I suppose,” Zayn chuckles.

“Well, then how about we ditch this place and go get some snacks before Louis finds us?” Liam tags Zayn on the back of the head before darting back inside, disappearing down one of the school’s empty corridors.

Zayn struggles to catch up but eventually finds Liam at the end of dark hallway, lit only with one fluorescent light, flickering intermittently to reveal a row of vending machines. Liam stands pondering the snacks for a moment before plunging his hand in his pocket to extract a handful of change. Liam puts a few coins in the machine and enters the number to buy a bag of Doritos. The bag starts to fall down the front of the machine but gets caught halfway down.

“Damn, that’s all the change I’ve got.” He bumps his hip forcefully against the machine to no avail, “Guess we’ll have to go without tonight.”

Zayn raises an eyebrow at Liam, “Maybe not...” and then he down on his knees, sliding his skinny arm up through machine, crooking his arm until his fingertips are finally able to grasp the bag dangling from one of the hooks.

“Got it!” Zayn pants triumphantly, “Want anything else?”

“Zayn Malik, you sly devil,” Liam grins. “How about that bag of M&M’s in B6?”

Zayn sticks his arm in again and after a few minutes of Zayn’s wiry arm reaching in and out of the machine they’ve got an armful of assorted snacks. “Where to now?”

“How about that playground around back?” Liam offers, and just like that they’re off running down the halls again like a couple of kids. They fly through the back doors of the school, laughing all the way until they reach a worn down jungle gym.

They spill their loot down on the wood chips before heading straight for the monkey bars. They’re far too tall for hanging on to the bars to constitute any sort of challenge but they still spend minutes dangling and kicking at each other playfully until Zayn finally manages to hook both legs around Liam, forcing him closer and successfully locking him in place as they hover intertwined just feet above the ground.

“Wey hey! Am I interrupting something?” Zayn releases Liam and they topple to the ground when he hears Niall’s familiar voice coming up beside them

“And what’s this? You two holding out on me I see?” Niall gestures to the pile of snacks still scattered on the ground and picking out a chocolate bar. “I see how it is.” Niall flops down next to them and finishes the bar in two truly inspiring bites.

“Where are Louis and Harry then?” Liam asks, pulling himself up from the ground and settling onto a swing, “Still cleaning up?”

“I don’t know about Louis but I’m right here!” Harry appears from behind Liam and gives him a forceful push. “Ooh, have we got snacks?” Harry squeals, diving to the ground and snatching up a bag of cheese puffs.

They stay like that for a while, lounging, snacking and watching the sky darken above them as they rehash the play’s highlights.

“That trick you did with those purple lights towards the end was inspired, Nialler!” Liam compliments, biting off one end of a particularly chewy gummy bear

“Eh-ehm” The boys hear a clipped cough from a figure now towering in shadow above where they’re all laying sprawled across the cool grass. Louis face is pinched with quiet rage. “I see you lot had more important things to do than help your best mate on one of the most important moments of his life...” Louis whispers dramatically

“Oh come on, Lou,” Harry pleads, scrambling to his feet, “Don’t be mad! We just needed a break is all. Come and join us!”

“Yeah, come on! Relax, you’ve done it! You’ve directed your first play! You’ve got to celebrate a bit,” Niall adds, throwing a bag of cookies directly at Louis’ head.

After shooting Niall one of his most withering glares to date, Louis’ face finally breaks into a smile, “It was pretty great, wasn’t it?” Louis allows Zayn to pull him to the ground, joining the pile of tangled limbs and snack wrappers on the grass.

“Hey!” Niall points at the sky excitedly, interrupting Louis as he begins to explain his reasoning behind the blocking in the opening scene, “I think I see the Big Dipper! Beautiful ‘innit?”

“That’s an airplane, Niall,” Louis says flatly.

“Huh. Still beautiful, though!”

They lay there for what seems like hours, looking up at the night sky, showering Louis with praise and snuggling in close to one another as a chill fills the air. After a while Harry and Louis break free from the tangle when Harry rolls on top of Louis. The rest of the boys look over to see Harry stradling Louis, sucking an impressive hickey into Louis’ neck, who is now groaning softly as Harry continues to roll his hips down rhythmically, pinning Louis to the ground.

“Oi! Get a room!” Niall shouts.

“Not a bad idea, actually!” Louis pants, jumping to his feet, dragging Harry up with him, “Thanks for all the help, boys, couldn’t have done it without you, love you lots, etcetera etcetera, bye! ” Louis shouts over his shoulder as he and Harry nearly sprint to the parking lot.

“I’d probably better be off as well!” Niall says, wiping the grass from his jeans as he stands up “Told Demi I’d meet her when her shift at Tony’s is over. You coming, then?”

“Naw I think we’re good here,” Liam answers for Zayn, “You drive safe though.” Liam scooches closer to Zayn to fill the gap Niall left when he stood up.

“Right then! G’night you two, don’t have too much fun without me!” Niall grabs another candy bar before heading off to his car.

And then it’s just Liam and Zayn, huddled next to each other for warmth, breathing in the crispness of the late night air as dew begins to settle on the grass around them. They don’t say anything for a long time. It’s enough for them just to be there, pressed up against one another, Liam feeling the rise and fall of Zayn’s chest next to his own. Zayn enjoying the feel of Liam's hands lightly threading through his hair.

Night turns to early morning before Zayn finally breaks the silence. “Liam?” Zayn whispers, unsure if Liam is even still awake.

“Yeah, Zayn?” Liam answers, clearly still just as awake as Zayn.

“Do you ever think about what things would have been like if you never started drinking? How different your life would be? How much easier?”

“‘Course I do,” Liam sighs deeply, “But I don’t know that things would be any easier had my life taken a different path. I figure life’s always gonna be hard, addiction or no addiction.”

“‘Suppose that’s true,” Zayn ponders.

“And you know what Zayn? Sometimes I’m grateful it happened this way. Know why?”

“Hm?” Zayn grunts, glancing over at Liam, still staring up at the starless city sky.

“Had my life happened any other way, I might not have met you.”

Liam wraps an arm over Zayn, pulling him in close, and within seconds Zayn is fast asleep, content in the arms of his best friend, his sponsor, his guardian angel.

\-----

\-----

 

One day, as the weekly all-addictions meeting draws to a close, Simon holds up a hand to quiet the room, “One last announcement...” People continue to vacate their chairs, only half listening until he adds, “Regarding my annual end of term Christmas party,” a statement which immediately grabs the attention of the room, earning Simon a few assorted whoops and claps from various group members.

“As we all know the holidays can be quite a difficult time for those of us trying to avoid temptation. Therefore, as always, I will extend my invitation to all of you a party where you can really let loose, not having to worry about any of that. You are, of course, welcome to bring guests but please make it clear that this party will be completely free of alcohol and drugs,” Simon pauses, looking sternly around the room.

“That doesn’t mean, however, that we won’t have a few surprises in store for you all. To those of you new to our community and unsure of whether you’ll ever go to another fun party again, I can assure you that in all likelihood you will still wake up in the morning full of regret and shame. We may be alcoholics but that doesn’t mean we can’t let our hair down every now and again. So mark your calendars, it’ll be a week from Friday, formal attire recommended but by no means required. And it’s the last day of exams so I expect to see ALL of you present. I’ve even heard a rumor that Sober Santa might be making an appearance...”

“Oh FUCK yes!” Harry hisses, jumping up from his seat and giving everyone within reach a high five, ending on Simon, to whom he gives forceful, sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“What’s this then?” Zayn leans over and whispers to Liam.

“Simon’s Christmas party! Always legendary. And before you even start, you’re going. End of story.”

“Guess there’s no use fighting it then,” Zayn says, leaning back into Liam’s chest.

“Like you’d even stand a chance.”

The week of exams sneaks up on Zayn but he doesn’t feel entirely unprepared. Most afternoons he’ll hole himself up in the library, Niall or Liam sometimes joining him for moral support even though they clearly have no intention of helping him study.

One day though, Zayn is sitting alone studying when he hears a vaguely familiar voice.

“Zayn!” One of Zayn’s old classmates, Andy, barely makes an attempt to whisper in the otherwise dead silent library “Zayn? I can’t believe my eyes! Is that you, man?”

“Uhm, yep,” Zayn says, barely audible, as Andy makes his way over and sits down across the table from Zayn.

“Where have you been all semester? Feel like I barely see you anymore! You always dart away after lecture, you sneaky bastard!”

Andy isn’t even pretending a whisper, earning him several death glares and eye rolls from the others trying to study in the library.

“Just been busy I suppose,” Zayn continues to whisper, hoping Andy will take a hint

“I’m sure you have...” Andy punches Zayn with from across the table, “Well, some of us from Sempter’s class are going for a beer later, you in?”

“I really can’t, sorry...” Zayn starts, frantically searching for a way out of this

“Oh come on man you haven't come out with us in ages! It’ll be fun.”

“No I would it’s just--”

“I see how it is you’ve got some new mysterious friends and now you’re too busy to hang out with our sorry bunch. I get it, I get it.” He throws his hands up pretending offense.

Zayn pauses to consider his options before he continues. He could lie and make up some excuse. He could run for the exit, in the hopes that Liam’s exercise training might at least give him enough of a head start to outrun Andy and hide in a corridor somewhere. Or he could just tell him. Simon had been talking a lot about honesty in their meetings lately. Zayn had taken the first step towards being more honest by admitting to himself and the rest of the AA group that he had a problem. Zayn knows he’ll have to come clean to the rest of the world eventually, but once he says it out loud, to someone who doesn’t really even know that much about him, he feels like he’ll be setting a precedent. There is no way Zayn could control who Andy tells or doesn’t tell. And if he tells Andy then does he have to tell everyone?

Andy interrupts Zayn’s train of thought. “But seriously, what gives?”

Zayn takes a deep breath “I can’t because I don’t drink anymore.”

“Yeah, right,” Andy scoffs.

Zayn gulps, “No really, I quit...I mean, I’m sober about four months” Zayn can feel eyes from around the library gravitating towards the table and quickly darting away any time Zayn almost makes eye contact.

“Oh. Wow, man I had no idea. You know you can still come with us if you want, right? You could just not drink, it’s no big deal.”

“That’s ok, I think it’s better if I don’t. Thanks for offering, though.”

“So...what’s it like? God, I honestly cannot imagine! How do you function?”

“It’s alright I guess,” Zayn leans further over his textbook in an attempt bring this conversation to a close

“That’s rough man. But you know what I always say? Everything in moderation. But of course, I totally understand. My uncle was an alcoholic.”

“Oh, cool?”

“Died of liver failure three years ago.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Zayn is struggling to see where this is going.

“Aw, no worries! He was mental anyways. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, sure,” Zayn slumps further into his seat, wishing he could be somewhere, anywhere, but here.

\-----

The next week passes without incident. Zayn aces all his exams without even having to pull an all nighter. He spends the rest of his week hanging out with the boys attempting to get some holiday shopping done. His family never really celebrated anything but for some reason, this year, Zayn feels compelled to get into the spirit of giving. Besides, the era is over where he could just offer to buy a round of shots as a gift and call it a day.

Before Zayn knows what’s hit him, the Friday of Simon’s party rolls around. Zayn spends a bit more time than he normally might getting ready. He’d blown the last of his paycheck from tutoring on a second hand suit and it was taking every last bit of adjusting to get it to look right.

Zayn is fiddling with his red and green checkered pocket square when Liam walks in his apartment shouting, “Make yourself decent!” in lieu of a knock.

“You don’t have to cover eyes, Liam, I’m dressed.” Zayn turns around from where he’s standing at his bathroom mirror to face Liam. “But even if I wasn’t...” Zayn stops in his tracks, unsure of how to proceed in the face of such a beautiful human being. There isn’t anything particularly flashy about Liam’s outfit, but there doesn’t need to be. The way his vest hugs his slim torso, his sleeves already slightly scrunched up around his elbows, the birthmark on his neck just peeking out through his collar. Liam smiles up at Zayn after throwing his blazer on Zayn’s bed. He appraises Zayn for a moment, exaggerating the movement of his eyes up and down Zayn’s body.

“Well, I must say, Zayn, you always look dashing but you have truly outdone yourself tonight! Go on then, give us twirl!”

Zayn laughs and gives a quick spin on the back of his heel. The sound of a slow clap followed by a piercing wolf whistle coming from Zayn’s doorway startles him enough that he nearly slips on the tile floor of his bathroom. He looks over to see Harry and Louis grinning, wearing unsurprisingly garish matching red and green outfits.

“Wow, Zayn! Who are you trying to impress tonight?” Harry wags his eyebrows at Zayn, “I might just have to ditch my dud of a date here if you’re planning on wearing that number tonight.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Louis’ eyes narrow in on Harry as he yanks him back in his direction possessively.

“Who even let you two in?” Zayn asks, making one last adjustment to his tie and turning off the bathroom light

“Hide-a-key rock, Zayn? Really? This is an apartment complex, you’re practically asking to be robbed. Anyways, we’ve got to ride with you all. Niall redacted his offer to drive. Apparently Demi got off work for the party after all tonight so they’ll be riding together,” Louis explains.

“...in more ways than one if you catch my drift.” Harry elbows Louis hard in the side, earning him a smack on the back of the head.

"It's fine," Liam responds with a smile.

"But I call shotgun," Zayn interjects.

"That's not how shotgun works, Zayn, you can't even see the car," Harry counters, pushing Zayn aside and running to the window to peek through the blinds. "SHOTGUN!" he calls smugly, "and that is how you call shotgun!"

Zayn finishes getting ready and they all pile into Liam's car. Despite a great effort on Harry's end, Zayn still manages to snag the passenger's seat.

They arrive at Simon's house about twenty minutes later. It's an amazing place, with strikingly modern architecture given its suburban setting. Tenure must be treating Simon well. The path to the front door is all lit up with silver and blue twinkling lights.

The party is fantastic. Zayn wouldn’t have been able to tell this was a party for recovering alcoholics if he didn’t already know. Every inch of Simon’s house seems to be covered in a sparkling frost. There is plenty of that fancy type of food Zayn would never try on his own and despite the absence of any alcohol, there are still several bars scattered throughout the house offering eggnog, coffee, and hot chocolate.

The music is blaring and Zayn can already see familiar faces huddled underneath several strategically placed boughs of mistletoe hanging in darker corners and alcoves. Zayn spends the first hour at the party hanging around with the boys, eating, occasionally chatting with some of the other regulars from the AA meetings.

Zayn is surprised by how much fun the party is, though he still thinks the eggnog would be better with a finger or two of whisky. Being able to enjoy the company of his friends, the sights and smells of the holiday, all crystal clear, there’s something special about it, something very new and exciting.

Zayn is chatting with Niall and Demi, watching them both work their way through an impressively large tray of sweets, when they hear a commotion coming from across Simon’s living room. At some point during the evening someone had set up a plush red throne, surrounded by piles of gifts and poinsettias. A short blonde woman, who Zayn recognizes from the all addictions meetings as a second year recovering cocaine addict, is wearing a bright pink elf’s outfit, and steps in front of the chair, holding the microphone that people had been using for karaoke. “And now...” She begins, “The moment you all have been waiting for...Sober Santa!”

“Ho Ho Ho!” Zayn hears from across the room. Santa, who is clearly just Simon adorned in a quite elaborate red suit, steps forward and settles himself down in the throne, “Merry Christmas!”

Harry pushes everyone out of the way, leaping over to the chair from across the room in just a couple of long strides.

"Urgh," Santa grunts from the weight when Harry flops down on his lap, throwing both arms around his neck and waiting patiently for Santa to continue.

“Well, what do we have here? Young Harold returns again! I've heard you've been quite good this year." Harry beams. "What would you like Santa to bring you this Christmas?"

Harry leans in close and whispers something inaudible in Santa's ear, who immediately shoves a giggling Harry off his lap and onto the floor

"Onto the naughty list you go, then!" Santa says, wiping his cheek from where Harry had managed to plant a sloppy kiss before being thrown onto the ground.

Harry wipes off his trousers and returns to Louis' side, "Mission accomplished!" he gloats, extending a fist for Louis to bump, which goes unreturned as Louis takes an exaggerated step away from Harry, shaking his head.

A few more people step up, putting on a show and airing their most unrealistic wishes in front of the group. Finally, Zayn feels a nudge from Louis. “Come Zayn, your turn! You can’t officially call yourself a part of our group till you’ve sat on Sober Santa’s lap.”

Zayn glares at Louis before making his way over to the throne and awkwardly positioning himself on Simon’s lap. “At long last!” Simon begins, “Zayn Malik decides to pay me a visit! What can I do for you this year, Zayn. I’ve been told you’ve been exceptionally good this year! Tell me your wish and I’ll make it come true.”

Zayn’s eyes inadvertently flick over to Liam, who is standing across the room, engrossed in a conversation with some first year wearing a hat that lights up, before making something up about finding a good job and staying sober and starting a family. All the regular fluff he feels like he should throw out.

Louis eyes Zayn curiously as he gets up from Simon’s lap but before he has the chance to say anything Harry grabs both of their arms and steers them to Simon’s backyard, where a crowd has steadily been gathering to dance under the twinkling icicle lights. It’s quite cold outside but once they attach themselves to the quickly growing mass of people, they’re able to take in the body heat of people pressed up against one another dancing to remixes of Christmas classics.

Zayn allows himself to be swallowed up into the crowd, not really paying attention to who he is dancing with at any particular moment, content to feel the warmth around him and breathe in the smell of each new body he encounters. After a couple songs Zayn makes his way back to Harry and Louis, by now so wrapped up in each other he doesn’t dare interfere. Standing off to the side of the crowd, however, Zayn notices Liam looking around, straining his neck to try to find something in the mass.

“Liam!” Zayn calls, and immediately Liam’s face brightens. Liam pushes his way past a few people until he reaches Zayn.

“Just the man I’ve been looking for! Thought everyone had moved on to be honest!” Liam shouts.

“What?” Zayn shouts, having trouble hearing Liam over the crowd and the music.

“I thought you all had left me!” Liam yells.

“Niall’s pissing on a tree?” Zayn repeats.

“Nevermind!” Liam shouts directly into Zayn’s ear, his breath warm and damp, and so close it sends a shiver down Zayn’s spine. “Let’s dance!”

Zayns smiles and nods, moving closer to Liam as they both sway into the beat. In a way this whole experience feels like a middle school dance, so new and untainted by alcohol, the smell of sweat and the heat from everyone’s bodies being so intoxicating he feels tipsy just from being here. And on the other hand there’s something very adult about the way Zayn feels pressed up against Liam, the curve of Zayn’s lower back fitting so perfectly against Liam, the way Liam has slowly moved his hand to rest on Zayn’s hip, occasionally pushing down to move Zayn how he wants.

When they’d started dancing it was loose and light, Zayn turning around now and then, grinding back into whoever was behind him for show. But after a while it might as well just be Zayn and Liam dancing alone in Simon’s back yard. The rest of the crowd fades away and Zayn turns to face Liam, throwing his arms around Liam’s neck and enjoying how it feels when Liam moves in closer, his crotch grinding up into Zayn’s sporadically. Zayn tries to nuzzle his face closer into Liam’s neck but he overshoots and clumsily hooks his neck over Liam’s shoulder. Liam tenses up under him but he doesn’t move away immediately. They dance like that for a while, stiff and uncomfortable, but close, and that’s what matters to Zayn anyways. An unbearable knot of heat starts to build low in Zayn’s stomach and all he wants is to be closer to Liam.

Zayn is shocked when he feels an arm tug at him aggressively and pull him out of the crowd. Louis has his hand locked firmly around Zayn’s wrist as he drags him up the stairs to the second floor of Simon’s house and out onto a sundeck overlooking the swelling dancing mass below.

“Zayn. What on earth are you doing?” Louis whispers low, even though no one would be able to hear him anyways.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh don’t play dumb, Zayn, you and Liam have been putting on quite the show for the last twenty minutes, I’m not the only one to notice, I’m sure.” Louis stares pointedly at the bulge growing in Zayn’s trousers. He’d thought it would go away by the time he got up stairs. Apparently not.

“Well...So? This is a party, right? We’re meant to let loose and have fun.”

“Yeah, but not with Liam, Zayn. I know you two are close but for god’s sake this is worse than I thought. It’s not really appropriate when he’s your sponsor, don’t you think?”

“What gives you the right to talk about being inappropriate anyways, Louis? Look at you and Harry.”

“But I’m not Harry’s sponsor. You know that, right?”

“But then...wait, seriously?” Louis nods. “I always just assumed.”

“No, Nick is Harry’s sponsor. Kind of a shit sponsor if you ask me, more of a bad influence than good but I guess they suit each other. I don’t think I could ever be in a relationship like that. You get why, right?”

“I mean, yeah, but Liam and I are different.”

“How so?”

“I’m not even sure if I like him like that,” Zayn lies, “Sure he’s amazing and supportive and--”

Louis cuts him off. “--and you’re mad for him Zayn, everyone knows it. You’re hardly good at hiding it.”

“Look, Louis, I’m sure you mean well but you really don’t know what you’re talking about here. You don’t know anything about what goes on between Liam and me.”

“Maybe not, but maybe I understand a bit more about this than you’d like to admit. I’ve known Liam for a long time, since he came here in fact. And I’m not sure you know what you’re getting yourself into here.”

A familiar feeling of uncertainty washes over Zayn. The feeling that he’s missing something vitally important, that he doesn’t know something about Liam. That Liam isn’t telling him something. He pushes the thought to the back of his head.

“It doesn’t matter. I know all I need to about Liam.”

“And what do you know, really?”

“I know that he’s my best friend and I know that he’s helped me through the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through and I know--”

Zayn’s pause hangs heavy in the air as he struggles to hold back what he really wants to say.

“I know that I love him,” Zayn breaks.

“Zayn,” Louis’ voice lowers.

“ _Shit_ what am I doing, Lou? This is bad.” Zayn buries his face in his hands.

“Listen, I know this isn’t easy for you, and I’m a bit sorry I brought it up. But honestly I’m just worried about you. I’ve seen you and Liam together and I know you can’t go on like this.”

“Why not? Why does it have to be so black and white?”

“Zayn, you know you’ll have to decide sooner or later. Do you need Liam as your sponsor or your boyfriend?”

“But what if it’s not that simple?”

“Well” Louis shrugs, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek before he continues, “You’re gonna do what you’re gonna do but you’ve got to realize you might not like what comes of it. Liam’s been through a lot and it’s clear he cares about you it’s just...you’re not really making this easy for him.”

“What do you mean by that?” How could Louis possibly think this was Zayn’s fault? It wasn’t anybody’s fault, really.  
“I mean you just need to think about if it’d really be worth it...to change your relationship with Liam like that. When he...you look at him like he’s an angel fallen from heaven, Zayn, but he’s not. He’s flawed just like you are. You’d be risking a lot. Not just your relationship with Liam but your relationship with your sponsor. For christ’s sake your entire recovery.”

Zayn is speechless. On the one hand he doesn’t want to dignify all that Louis’ just said with a response but on the other he doesn’t know what he would even say if he could bring himself to speak. Just then Niall and Demi stumble out onto the deck like two drunk teenagers, though obviously completely sober, tangled up in one another so intensely they barely even notice Louis and Zayn.

“Ahem,” Louis coughs loudly.

“Huh?” Niall gasps, pulling himself for a moment, only to see it’s just Louis and Zayn before diving right back in, sliding a hand up the back of Demi’s dress, using the other to gesture lazily for the boys to leave.

“I guess that’ll be our cue to go then,” Zayn mumbles and quickly heads for the sliding glass door.

“Zayn, wait!” Louis calls after him, “I still want to talk about this.”

Zayn glances over his shoulder at Louis, still standing on the deck, shaking his head in disappointment, and then he’s lost in the crowd of Simon’s house again.

Zayn finds Liam moments later, stealing a gumdrop from the top of a gingerbread house. “Zayn! Where’ve you been?”  
“Oh, sorry. I was in the bathroom.”

“That’s alright! Care for a Red Hot?” Liam offers Zayn a sticky red finger.

“I’m good, thanks,” Zayn glances around to make sure Louis was still out of sight, “Actually, do you think we can get out of here? I’m not feeling too well.”

“Oh, no! Well..ok I guess. We’ll miss the gift exchange but that’s really not important. What about Harry and Louis?”

“I think they already left,” Zayn lies, too preoccupied to worry over how they’d get home

“Alright, then! Let me just say goodbye to Simon before we go.”

“I’ll meet you outside.” Nice as the party had been, Zayn just needed to get back outside and get some air. Zayn makes his way to the front of Simon’s house and walks a bit down the winding street to where Liam had parked his car. He lights a cigarette and and takes a couple long drags before he see’s Liam’s familiar silhouette coming down the road and flicks the cigarette to the ground.

Liam and Zayn enter the car without saying a word and spend the majority of the car ride in silence. As Liam pulls to a stop in front of Zayn’s apartment he looks over at Zayn. “Is everything alright?” Liam asks.

“Yeah ‘m fine” Zayn shrugs, “Just a bit tuckered out is all. End of term exhaustion must finally be setting in.”

“If you say so,” Liam still looks a bit concerned, “Well, best you get some sleep then! You’ll call me soon ok? I know you’re going to spend some time at home with family soon but that’s not for another week or so right?”

“Will do,” Zayn replies curtly, already stepping out of the car, “Later.” Zayn shuts the door and watches as a confused Liam starts to drive away. Part of Zayn wants to run after him, because, really, what does Louis know? But instead he stands out in the crisp chill of mid-December, watching the lights from Liam’s car fade as he drives further and further away.

 

Over the next few days Zayn spends a significant amount of time thinking about what Louis said the night of Simon’s party. He wasn’t all wrong. Zayn definitely has feelings for Liam, he has since he first met him if he’s honest with himself. But he doesn’t see why that needs to mess everything up. And moreover he doesn’t think he’s wrong in assuming Liam feels the same way at least a little bit. If Zayn seemed desperate sometimes part of the reason was that Liam let him. Liam let him linger a bit too long when they hug goodbye. Liam had no problem when Zayn would run his hands idly through his hair when they sat next to each other at meetings.

All the while, Zayn can’t bring himself to talk to Liam. He doesn’t even know what he’d say, too nervous that he’d spill his guts immediately to even call Liam. It’s weird not talking to him, though. It feels purposeful, even more so when he ignores the texts and calls Liam’s been sending him.

Finally, after a couple of sleepless nights, turning over his options in his head, Zayn can’t take it anymore. It wasn’t just him. He’d felt the possessive squeezes on his shoulder when that waiter over at Tito’s flirted with Zayn. He knew how good it felt to fall asleep against Liam’s solid body watching some movie neither of them cared about. And more than that, he saw the way Liam looked at him when he thought he wasn’t looking. Not like he was a project, a broken toy meant to be fixed, but like he was Zayn. Just Zayn. When Liam looked at him was the only time he felt like himself. It was like Liam could see Zayn better that he could see himself.

Enough with the pangs of yearning, enough with the waiting around. Forget what the others thought. Zayn needed Liam, not just as a sponsor. He needed all of Liam.

_Zayn: Sry I’ve been weird lately. Feeling pretty low. Emergency. Plz come?_

_Liam: Stay where u are. Be there in 10_

It’s only seven minutes later when Zayn hears his front door click open. “Zayn!” Liam calls “Zayn are you alright?” Liam enters the living room and immediately pulls Zayn into frighteningly strong embrace. “What’s wrong? I was worried I’d find you passed out under a table. What do you need?”

“I don’t know Liam, I’m sorry I made you come all the way over. I guess I’m ok now you’re here. I just needed to see you.”

“What’s the emergency then? You made it sound rather urgent.”

“I just... I was feeling sad and I just needed you, Liam.”

“Were you about to drink?”

“No, but I...”

Liam cuts him off mid thought with a sigh, “Listen, Zayn...you know I care about you, but this isn’t the first time this has happened. I can’t drop everything come running over every time you feel low. You have to learn how to cope on your own sometimes. We’ve made great progress together but at some point you’re going to have to try this on your own. You’re always going to have feelings that you have to deal with; I won’t always be around to help you.” Liam’s words ripped right through Zayn. The thought of not having Liam was too much to fathom. “I have a life too, Zayn, I can’t just--”

Before he knows what he’s doing, Zayn’s lips are pressed up against Liam’s. And in that instant, Zayn feels a buzz spread through his entire body. A different buzz than he got from drinking, in just one moment more potent and intoxicating than downing three shots of tequila.  
He can’t remember the last time he felt like this when he kissed someone. In the past two years zayn has had his fair share of drunken encounters. He’d hook up with men and women, anyone he could count on to have disappeared come morning. sloppy and unmemorable.  
It isn’t like that with Liam. Within seconds, he’s out of sorts, sweating and aching for more.

But almost as quickly as it begins, it’s over. Liam pushes an unsteady hand against Zayn’s chest. “Zayn,” he whispers. The concerned look in his eyes betrays the flush of desire spreading across his cheeks. “We can’t.” 

 

Zayn wakes suddenly from his sleep with a sharp pain in his head. He pushes himself off the cold concrete floor, where he apparently slept last night, and wipes the drool from his cheek. Zayn looks around and realizes he doesn’t recognize this apartment at all. There are other people scattered around, passed out on couches and various corners of the room, but he doesn’t recognize them either. There’s a girl wearing his shirt snuggled up next to some dude still wearing sunglasses and two different shoes. He’ll have to go without it. He just needs to get out.

Zayn grabs his jacket from a the back of a nearby chair and begins to wind his way through bodies out cold in an unfamiliar hallway until he finally finds the door out. He stumbles onto the landing of an apartment complex he almost recognizes. Perhaps from having passed by it on his way to Harry and Louis’ place? In this state he can’t be bothered to remember. He rubs the back of his neck where he can already feel a large bump forming from having slept on concrete floors all night.

It’s when he sees a woman taking her trash out to a dumpster below that the nausea hits. He takes a few steps towards the railing to steady himself but finds himself unprepared when the gurgling in his stomach begins to creep up his throat. He attempts to hold it back but within seconds he’s doubled over and hurling out on to the parking lot below.

Wiping the sick from his mouth, Zayn feels a buzz in the pocket of his jeans. Shit. What has he done? He takes a deep breath and checks his phone. 22 missed calls. He clicks through to read his messages.

_Liam: Zayn, can we talk about this?  
Liam: Can you just answer your phone plz? We really need 2 talk_

_Niall: Zayn! My old buddy who bartends @ Buckets says he’s just seen u there. Tell me it isn’t true!!_

_Harry: Where u at Zayn? Liam’s worried about u!  
Harry: I am 2...for the record_

_Louis: ZAYN MALIK YOU ANSWER YOUR PHONE RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!_

_Unrecognized Number: Crazy night man! good 2 have u back out! u make it home ok?_

_Liam: Plz Zayn just want 2 know your ok I’m not mad x_

No. This was all wrong. This can’t have been real. It must just be some hellish nightmare. How could Zayn have been so stupid, so weak? He’d been sober all semester and he thought he’d been doing really well. It was never easy but with Liam he could manage. _Liam_. He’s going to be so disappointed. The guilt washes over Zayn like a wall of icy water. There’d be no way he could face Liam now, or ever. Liam, supportive and practical. Everything Liam had said the night before had been right, Zayn just wouldn’t hear it. Couldn’t hear it. He had _needed_ Liam to be there. He _needed_ Liam now. He needed to feel his strong arms wrap him up and tell him he’d get through this.

He’d been so selfish. Liam had just been doing what he thought was best and what did Zayn do? Run off like child and drink himself into a stupor. Even if Liam did feel the same way Zayn felt, he’d been wise enough to know what Zayn didn’t. Zayn wasn’t ready. He’d been foolish to think that he was strong enough for something like this. He wasn’t even strong enough to stay sober one night without Liam.

Exhausted, lost, and humiliated, Zayn slumps over, buries his head in his hands and begins to sob, looking up only when he hears the door to one of the nearby apartments click open. A man with his dog glances down at Zayn and quickly starts down the stairs. Zayn stumbles to his feet. Right. He’s got to get out of here. Except, he still isn’t sure exactly where he is.

Zayn makes his way down the stairs to the complex parking lot, almost falling down several times as he trips over his own heavy feet. He tries to remember the previous night to retrace his steps but it only comes back in flashes. Leaving Liam dumbstruck in his own apartment. Running several blocks and hiding behind a tree. Making his way to the nearest liquor store and downing several shots of vodka in the parking lot. Calling up his old pal from that one first year philosophy lecture. He vaguely remembers dancing with some girl at Buckets. Beyond that it’s all a void until he woke up this morning, shirtless and freezing on a stranger’s floor.

Zayn walks down the street a bit but only manages to get himself even more lost. He pulls out his phone. The last thing he needs right now is Louis’ judgement but he knows Louis will come straight away. He dials the number and after a few solid seconds of listening to Louis yell, he’s able to describe where he is well enough that Louis thinks he’ll be able to pick him up.

“We’re on our way, Zayn, just stay put and we’ll be there in ten.”

“Wait, who’s we?” He cuts in.

“The boys, of course.”

“No, no, no, Louis. I called you. You can’t let them know what’s happened. I’ve fucked up too badly. And you definitely can’t bring them here. I’d die if Liam saw me like this.”

There is a silence on Louis’ end of the phone, he’s clearly discussing something with someone out of earshot. “Fine, Zayn I won’t bring anyone, but you can’t stop me from letting them know you’re ok. We’ve all been worried sick since Liam called ‘round last night looking for you.”

“Alright, alright, Louis. Just get here, please,” Zayn pleads.

Louis pulls up to the curb where Zayn’s seated himself a few moments later.

“Jesus, Zayn, you look like shit” Louis starts, backing further away from Zayn as he straps his seat belt over his mostly bare chest, “And you smell like...”

Zayn gulps, staring over at Louis and wondering if he’ll actually dare to continue, “No matter! You’re ok and that’s what’s important.”

“Louis, I--” Zayn tries to start, but it’s all he can manage before he’s in shambles. Zayn cries until his eyes are puffy and red and his mouth is so dry he can barely speak.

“It’s ok, Zayn,” Louis unbuckles himself and leans over to hug Zayn. He rubs circles on Zayn’s back until he’s able to catch his breath.

“Can you tell me, what happened last night, Zayn? Liam just said you two were talking and you ran off,” Louis asks when it seems like Zayn has finally exhausted himself enough he’s stopped sobbing.

Zayn struggles for a moment to even know where to begin. “I kissed Liam.” Louis’ face falls in understanding, “I kissed Liam and he didn’t want it and ran off and then...Well I don’t remember most of it. I was...” Zayn hangs his head in shame, he can’t bring himself to admit out loud what he’s done. To tell Louis, who warned Zayn about this in the first place, that he’d been right. That he risked everything just because he couldn’t control his feelings for Liam, “Louis, I’ve fucked up so badly, what’ve I done?”

Louis sighs, finally letting Zayn go so he can look him in the eyes, “You’ve got to know Zayn. We all mess up sometimes. It might not always be like this but you’d be hard pressed to find someone in recovery who hasn’t slipped up at some point” Louis thinks a bit before continuing, “I don’t think the real issue here is that you slipped up. It’s why it happened in the first place. If Liam didn’t want what you did, then why couldn’t you just talk to him? That’s what he’s there for.”

“Louis you don’t understand. I--” Zayn stumbles over his words, “I can’t. I just--After kissing Liam, I don’t think I can go back to the way things were. And if Liam doesn’t want me then...”

“Zayn you can’t think like that. Liam loves you, he’ll understand.”

“No. If we can’t be together, then me sticking around is just going to hurt the both of us.”

“What are you planning on doing then?” Louis raises an eyebrow, “You can’t just drop everything and leave, you’ve come too far.”

“And look where it got me. I’m worse off than when I started. My life is a mess, Louis, and being around Liam isn’t going to help matters.”

“Zayn, you really need to talk to him. Don’t you understand how much you’ll be hurting Liam if you just cut him off?”

“You know what, Louis, can you just take me home? I’m exhausted.” Zayn turns away from Louis and stares out the car window until Louis finally starts up the car engine again and drives the away.

Louis has barely pulled into the parking lot to Zayn’s apartment complex when Zayn opens the car door and steps out.

“Zayn! Wait!” Louis calls out the window, “You don’t think I’m just gonna leave you here alone do you?”

“Yeah, I do.” Zayn slams the door and darts up the steps to his apartment, locking the door behind himself and immediately turning off his phone. He grabs a duffle and shoves some clothes in it, not bothering to think about what he might need.

Within the hour, Zayn has caught the next bus home. He calls his mom when he’s settled himself on the bus, who is overjoyed to have Zayn coming home almost a week early. She doesn’t bother to ask why he’s decided to come home early and Zayn is glad. The day when he’ll have to tell his family about all this is definitely getting closer, but there’s no way he’s ready now. Now, Zayn just needs to get away, to not think about how big of a mess he’s made, of his recovery, of his relationship with Liam, of his future.

Zayn leans his head against the glass pane of the bus window. He tries to fall asleep but his head is too full. As hard as he tries to push thoughts of Liam out of his mind, all he can think of his how Liam looked after Zayn had kissed him. Flushed and wild and beautiful and sad. This would all be so much easier if the kiss had been terrible. If Liam had pushed him off immediately. Instead, Zayn got to know what it was like to kiss Liam, and to have Liam kiss him back, however briefly.

A couple hours later the bus pulls into the station. Zayn grabs his duffle and steps off onto the pavement, unsure of what he’ll do and say when he sees his family, but positive by now that he doesn’t have any more options.

If Liam says they can’t be together, then they won’t.

Zayn looks around for a moment before spotting his mother. She waves and smiles but as Zayn draws nearer a concerned look spreads across her face. Now that she can see Zayn up close she can probably tell from the puffiness surrounding his eyes he’s been crying for hours. “Zayn, what’s wrong?” She asks and pulls him into a hug, recoiling after a moment, probably due to the smell. Zayn hadn’t bothered to shower before leaving, too hung over and upset to think of how his mother would surely be able to smell the sick on him.

It’s when she looks him in straight in the eyes that Zayn falls apart. The reality of what he’s done hits him full on, knocking the wind out of him. All the work of the past few months to make himself better, down the drain all over a stupid kiss. He’s barely able to concentrate as his mom leads him to the car, supporting his weight and rubbing circles into his back. Zayn sits in the car for a while, just letting his mother hold him. When he’s finally able to catch his breath a pause hangs in the air. “What is all of this about?” She finally asks.

“There’s...there’s something I need to tell you.” He hesitates before continuing but after a moment it’s pouring out of him. His alcoholism, his recovery, his relapse.

His mother sits in stunned silence. “I--” She starts, tears already streaming down her cheeks, from anger or sadness Zayn can’t tell, “I don’t understand. How long has this been going on?”

“A long time, mum, years.” The disappointment on her face when he says that is crushing. She holds back a sob and looks out the window, unable to face him anymore.

“But you--you sounded so good the last time we spoke? What about Liam and all your new friends? Aren’t they helping you then? What happened?”

“They were but...I doubt they’ll want to anymore. I messed it all up” Zayn sighs, his eyes filling up with tears again as he imagines Liam and the boys. Of course he’d managed to ruin the only good thing to happen to him in years. He didn’t deserve them.

It’s a few minutes before either of them speak again. Zayn puts on a pair of shades in the hopes that the passersby won’t be able to tell how wrecked he is. “Well we’ll just have to get you help, Zayn. We’ll do whatever it takes to get you back on track.” She’s so sincere when she says it, it sends a pang of guilt straight to his heart.

“But I already--” Zayn stops himself before continuing. What could he say to that? That he’d already gotten help. That he’d failed miserably and might as well just fall of the face of the earth. Who was he to refuse his mother’s help now? She could be taking this a lot worse so whatever reservations Zayn has will have to take a back seat. “Okay, thanks.”

“We’ll have to tell your father, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Zayn knew he would have to tell the rest of his family and he knew it wouldn’t be easy but at least with his mom on his side he felt a little better.

When they arrived home the whole family was already there waiting. His sisters greeted him in a tangle of hugs and kisses and laughter until they realized that Zayn’s somber expression wasn’t just his normal level of annoyance with being bombarded at the front door.

“Yaser, dear?” his mother calls almost immediately after crossing the threshold, “Could you meet Zayn and I in the dining room? We’ve got something to discuss.” His sisters’ excited screeches turn to hushed whispers as they try to follow Zayn into the dining room. “Doniya, can you see that the girls get ready for bed? We might be in here a while.”

A chorus of disappointed “aw’s” echo around the room before Zayn speaks up. “Actually, if it’s okay, I’d like them to hear. I’d rather just do this once.”

HIs mother is clearly hesitant but eventually gives in. “Alright, if that’s how you want it.” Zayn nods. Despite the awkwardness of it all he knows he’ll have to rip of the bandage sooner or later. He can’t expect to just show up a complete mess and not explain himself.

Getting the actual words out is a whole different matter altogether. Zayn struggles at first to try and phrase it in a way that doesn’t sound so bad for his sisters but ultimately there is no getting around it. They are old enough to grasp the concept by now but that doesn’t make Zayn feel any better about telling them. Once he’s finally able to spit out. “I’m an alcoholic.” He can’t bring himself to even look up around the table, too afraid of what he’ll see in his family’s faces.

They all sit there for a while until Zayn feels a pair of arms wrap around him. He looks up to see Doniya, visibly holding back tears but otherwise keeping it together. “I’m proud of you, brother.” Doniya takes the muffled sniffles coming from their younger sisters as her cue to usher them out of the room.

Safaa and Waliyha stop momentarily in the doorway before exiting. “We love you, Zayn,” he hears one of them say but he’s too focused on not crying he can’t quite tell who. Zayn sits back and braces himself. It’s just him and his mother and father now and he has no idea what will happen next but he’s sure it won’t be easy for any of them. And truth be told the next hour Zayn spends trying to explain where he went wrong is one of the most painful things he’s ever had to do.

At first his father seems angry but more than anything it’s clear he’s disappointed, which is actually something Zayn is used to. He’s never quite felt like he lived up to his family’s expectations but this time they were right. They had been all along.

They stay up the rest of the night trying to figure out where to go next. His dad seems slightly uncomfortable with the idea of Zayn continuing his recovery at home but he also seems to understand that Zayn feels like he’s out of options. Besides, his mother is insistent that Zayn staying with the family will be the best thing for him. Zayn’s not so sure, but the reason he came home in the first place was that he had no place else to go so he’s at least relieved he can settle in for a while.

They decide it will be best if Zayn moves back home for the next semester. He’ll start a new recovery program in town and take a couple classes at community college. The lease on Zayn’s apartment isn’t up till August so he’ll just have to find someone to sublet it in the meantime. His mother agrees to stop by the apartment soon to grab the rest of Zayn’s things. Zayn would go with her but he doesn’t want to risk running into anyone. Not after what happened. And especially not after how he left things with Louis and Liam.

And that’s that. Zayn’s back home again. The holidays pass he just doesn’t rush back to university like he normally would. It feels strange, like he’s lingering somewhere he shouldn’t be or skipping class.

Zayn still receives texts from the boys, even Liam. Some of them he returns, some of them he doesn’t. They say they miss him and they’re worried about him, but it doesn’t make much of an impact. Zayn’s made up his mind. They’re better all better off without him.

For a while Louis seems cold and angry but with a bit of time he comes around. He even Skypes with Louis and Harry a couple of times. They are relieved to see that Zayn is doing alright, that he wasn’t lying about coming home to his family and really is starting a new recovery track.

They keep saying he’s overreacting, that the whole thing is blown out of proportion and he should just come back to school and how much Liam misses him. But they don’t understand what it would be like. Having to go and face Liam, rejected, humiliated, embarrassed by his own reaction to the whole thing. No, it’s too late to go back now.

After a while the texts from Liam stop. Zayn was sort of expecting it but it hurts nonetheless. Liam has probably heard all he needs to from Louis, Harry, and Niall. Why would he want to talk Zayn anyways with the way Zayn has treated him?

As for his family, he couldn’t ask for them to be more supportive. But sometimes it feels like they are walking on eggshells around him, watching his every move, waiting for him to blow up or break down, waiting for him to do something. But that’s just it, Zayn doesn’t do much of anything. He’s trying to focus his energy on his recovery program but even that doesn't feel like much.

In an effort to help out, his mother had found the new recovery program. It’s based at a local church and is for all ages. The first meeting Zayn went to made him feel quite uncomfortable. Perhaps he’d been spoiled starting his recovery at university with people closer to his own age but it also just feels weird to be lumped into the same group as a 65-year-old woman or a businessman with three kids. He’s all for learning from other’s experiences but honestly he just can’t relate.

And more than that, the whole thing is a bit preachy. This new AA program focuses mostly on the “twelve steps” to recovery. Zayn had heard Simon and the others mention all that before but honestly it had been a bit more like “pick your own path.” They usually said the serenity prayer at some point or another in all of their meetings, but here they took the whole “ _God_ grant me the serenity” part a hell of a lot more seriously. The people in the program were plenty nice and and the AA group leader was very helpful and all it’s just that everything seemed a little off. He didn’t really have anyone to talk to.

Before he’d had the boys. He’d had Liam. And now without them he’s floundering. He hasn’t had a drink since his slip up but he’s got no motivation, no reason to continue on or an end goal.

But for the most part Zayn is able to push his reservations about the program aside. His mum’s happy with his progress and he’s doing well in the drawing course he enrolled in as well. It’s nice to be at home and after a while even his dad starts to act normal around him again.

In a way, working through the twelve steps is good for Zayn, as it adds structure to the otherwise amorphous blur that is living with his folks. Zayn still yearns for alcohol, but somehow living at home the temptation isn’t as visceral. His parents never really drank all that much so he never has to worry about being surrounded by alcohol. Zayn doesn’t worry about becoming tempted because he never puts himself in a situation where he might be. He doesn’t do much of anything at all besides draw and go to meetings.

And that’s one of the hardest things to deal with. The first time he’d done recovery Zayn had always been active. Now he just sits around and ponders, and at one point in his life, probably halfway through a bottle of gin, he might have thought this whole thing was quite poetic but if he’s honest with himself now he’s just bored out of his mind.

There is a hole in Zayn. A year ago he would have filled it with alcohol. Six months ago he filled it with Liam. But now he’s just empty, attempting to fill his day with trivial tasks that never end up making him feel any better.

One morning when Zayn is working on his fourth cup of coffee his mom rushes in carrying a newspaper and scissors.

“Wasn’t it you who said no running with scissors?” he jokes

“Sorry dear just feeling inspired! I think i’ve found you a job, or several!”

“From the newspaper? You know we have the internet for job searching now, right?”

“Maybe so, but I’ve found the perfect thing, Zayn!” She sits down next to Zayn at the kitchen table and leans in close, cutting through the paper to extract a sizeable square. “Look here.  
‘Arrow Comics seeking intern. Submit resume and portfolio by April 15.’”

Zayn looks over the advert. It seems like it would be a good gig if it turned out to be reputable. He’d have to do some research online first to see if it was worth it to apply...but why would he even do that? He’s hardly qualified. “Sounds cool. I’d imagine they probably want someone with a bit more experience than me though.”

“Well you’ll never know until you try,” His mum says in the way that only mothers can. It’s clear there is no fighting her on this one. And even if he doesn’t get this one it’ll at least be good practice putting a portfolio together.

Later on that day Zayn decides to look up ‘Arrow Comics.’ After looking through their website Zayn definitely wants to try for it. It’s a fairly small company, but the quality of their work looks amazing. Zayn spends the next few weeks gathering his favorite drawings, some from class, some just doodles.

Finally Zayn gets to the point where he only needs one more drawing. He’s fairly set on one that his professor was particularly impressed with when he comes across an old notebook from one of his English courses last semester. He’d doodled in class fairly often so it’s worth a once over just to make sure he’s not missing anything.

After thumbing through a few pages half-heartedly something catches his eye. He barely remembers drawing it but spread across a full page of the notebook is Liam. Initially he laughs because it’s rather silly but the more he looks at it the more a familiar fondness fills him up. Liam is standing, clad in superhero tights and a cape, chest puffed out to display a bold “L” across his chest. In his right hand, a megaphone, in his left a whistle pinched in between his strong, rough fingertips.

The drawing is a little rough but with a bit of work, Zayn should be able to make it polished enough to submit. Zayn wonders what Liam would think if he could see the drawing. He’d probably laugh, eyes going all squinty and small, then give Zayn a firm slap on the back of the head and drag him outside for a run.

Even inside his own head, Zayn tries not to admit to himself all that often how much he misses Liam, because it’s easier not to think of him at all. But now, as Zayn stares down at Liam, he can’t help but succumb to all of the feelings he’s been holding back for the past few months.

He thinks of how stupid this whole thing is. How different things would have been if he hadn’t run away from Liam like a child. If he’d apologized and just learn to cope with the fact that they could never be together. At least he’d still have his best friend. He might not be so lonely and empty.

He wonders if Liam thinks about him often, if he’s still angry or if he’s moved on. Zayn’s not sure which would be worse. It’s hard to stomach the thought of Liam forgetting about Zayn, but it might be better that way. Zayn doesn’t like the thought of Liam loving someone else but he’s willing to recognize that Liam deserves better. He deserves his own superhero, his own angel.

\-----

Liam,

I hope this letter finds you happy and healthy. It’s a bit awkward to be writing to you now, after everything, but I really do hope you are well. The main reason I’m writing is to say I’m sorry. I’m sure Louis or someone has told you what I’m up to but yeah, I am in a new recovery program back home. It’s been going pretty well and it’s nice to be back with my folks. I’ve been working my way through the twelve step program here and now I’m at the stage where I’m starting to make amends for people I’ve wronged. They told us to be as specific as we can so I guess I’ll start from the beginning.

First, I’m sorry for reading more into our relationship than there apparently was. I guess I misread the signals you were giving off or maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see. Anyways, I’m sorry for that. Maybe I would have been more stable in my recovery if I’d paid more attention to what you were saying instead of how good you look in sweatpants (too soon? sorry!).

Second, I’m sorry for running away. I’m not sorry for kissing you, though in retrospect I know now I shouldn’t have, but I am sorry for how I reacted to you stopping me. I shouldn’t have run off. I should have stayed and talked to you because you were only doing what you thought was right, what is right actually.

Last, I’m sorry for not keeping in touch. It was immature of me to run off and not speak to you or let you know where I was. I was being petty and small. I was weak and scared but that’s no excuse. You were my sponsor and my best friend and you deserve better than to be treated like that by me. You deserve better than me.

All that being said I want to be clear about something. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. And I’m not confused. I don’t love you _because_ you were my sponsor. I love you _and_ you were my sponsor. You are the reason I’m alive, the reason I’m getting better every day, and despite how things have gotten you’re still the reason I keep going. I want to make you proud of me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to have you in my life, even if it means we can’t be together.

Honestly, at this point I know why it has to be this way. So for both of our sake’s I think it’s better if I stay where I am. I know I will always be faced with temptation in a million other ways and I know now that putting myself in a situation where I could slip up again isn’t a good idea. I guess that’s why I never called. I couldn’t bear to even hear your voice.

But I think I’m finally ready to move past this whole thing and I hope you are too. More than anything I want you to be happy. I’d love to hear from you if you feel like you can respond but if you’d rather I just disappear forever I’d understand why as well.

Thank you for everything, Liam. I don’t think I’ll ever fully be able to express to you how sorry I am.

Love,

Zayn

\-----

The thing that hurts the most is that Zayn never said goodbye. He’d run off and left Liam high and dry, still coming down from the kiss.

When Liam had pushed Zayn away, he had looked almost as crushed as Liam had felt. It’s not like he didn’t want to kiss Zayn. God, he did. He had for a long time. But he’d pushed those feelings aside in an attempt to do what was best for Zayn.

So, obviously getting a letter from Zayn was quite a shock. He hadn’t heard from Zayn directly at all since he’d run away. All the information he got was second hand from Louis, Harry, or Niall. It hurt that Zayn wouldn’t speak to him but Liam sort of understands why. Liam had rejected Zayn and then he’d completely spiralled out of control, why wouldn’t he be angry with Liam? Liam could barely look himself in the mirror anymore.

Liam’s eyes had nearly fallen out of his head when he’d seen that the letter was Zayn apologizing to him. Reading what Zayn had written knocked the wind out of Liam so thoroughly he almost couldn’t finish the letter. It was like Zayn was right there with him again, so perfect and earnest, but so very misguided.

And to know, once and for all, that Zayn loved him, was entirely too much to handle. He couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t done anything to deserve such unquestioning affection but to know made him happy nonetheless. Liam wishes he could wrap Zayn up in his arms and tell him how silly he was for even apologizing in the first place. Zayn had been honest about his feelings, which is more than Liam could say.

Liam fell hard and fast for Zayn but did his best to cover it up. He knew a relationship wasn’t what Zayn needed. He needed a sponsor, or so Liam thought. But then of course, Liam was working from his own experience and look how well that turned out.

He’d known for a while that this could be a problem, but he was hoping he was just making it all up, imagining the way Zayn stared at him or the way he could feel Zayn’s heart rate pick up whenever he pulled him in close for a hug. He’d known and he’d ignored it. He could have stopped it early on. He could have just said no to being Zayn’s sponsor. He’d known even then. There were plenty of people Zayn could have turned to.

Liam just saw so much of himself in Zayn. The way Zayn asked the same questions early on as Liam, made the same mistakes. Except for that Zayn learned from his mistakes in a way that Liam didn’t until much later, and in a way still hasn’t. Zayn was more honest and open, more ready to talk about his addiction with Liam and the boys. Liam wishes he could be more like Zayn in that respect, but how could he? How could he tell Zayn all of the thousands of ways he’d fucked up? Zayn looked up to Liam but he’d been too selfish to set him straight.

Liam knew the feelings he had for Zayn were new. He’d never felt this strongly about someone so quickly. He’d never felt this close with anyone he’d been with before. Liam was close with Zayn in a way he’d never been with Danielle. He’d cared for her deeply but after a while it began to feel like they were just together for convenience. They’d fallen down the rabbit hole together so neither of them had to explain anything. It was easy but looking back on it that’s what made it so dangerous. That’s what made it so hard to quit. And if given the choice Liam probably would have continued down that path towards who knows what until, well, until he couldn’t anymore.

It was Danielle who had ended it, and Liam understands why. But he can’t help but imagine what could have been. What his life would have been like if Danielle hadn’t given the baby up for adoption. How having a family could have saved him. Or, more likely how he could have ruined the whole thing.

Danielle had been stronger than Liam. Getting pregnant and almost failing out of undergraduate was the shock she’d needed to get her life back together. But that didn’t come for Liam until much later. Danielle breaking it off only gave Liam more of an excuse to sink further into his addiction.

It wasn’t until Danielle posted a picture of the sonogram on Facebook that it really hit Liam. He became obsessed with the idea of becoming a father and begged Danielle for weeks to reconsider. He promised her he’d sober up, that he’d work to support them, promised her whatever he thought she wanted to hear. But to no avail.

The last time he saw Danielle was when they met to talk it over. She looked a lot better. Her eyes were clearer and the color was coming back into her face. She looked like she did when they’d first met, young, hopeful and beautiful. But there was something else too. She was clearly worried when she’d sat down to meet him for coffee.

“I don’t want you to make a scene,” She’d said straight away.

“Why would you say that?” Liam never had a flair for the dramatic and she knew that.

“I mean, you’ve practically been stalking me for the last few weeks. You can’t blame me for being a bit nervous, especially given my condition.” She gestured to the baby bump under her top.

“Well, why haven’t you returned any of my messages? We need to talk about this. Don’t I have any say in the matter?”

Danielle’s face turned from concerned to angry, “You know what, Liam? No, you don’t. You really don’t. I mean, look at the state of you. Do you really think you’re in any position to raise a child? I know I’m not and I’m light years ahead of you,” she stopped to catch her breath before continuing, “No, the only reason I came here today was to get you to sign these forms. It’ll be a closed adoption. I think it’ll be easier that way.”

Liam watched in disbelief as Danielle took the papers out of her bag. She’d already signed them. “Easier how? You’re just going to give our child away? This is our chance, Danielle, our chance to make it alright again. To start over.”

“I’m sorry, Liam,” Danielle leaned forward to take Liam’s hand as tears began to well up in his eyes, “But I just can’t bring our daughter into the world like this.”

“It’s a girl?” Liam chokes.

“I guess I shouldn’t have told you that but yes, it’s a girl. And she deserves better.”

“But I can be better,” Liam pleads.

“I wish I knew that were true.” There is a long silence before Liam finally takes the pen Danielle had set in front of him and signs the papers with a shaky hand.

“Do you--do you at least know what her name will be?”

“No, her parents get to pick. And I’ve met them. They seem like wonderful people. We’d have been lucky to have folks like them growing up.”

“Well, not that it matters but I’ve always liked the name Geraldine.” Danielle nods, gives Liam one last pitying smile, and puts the forms back in her back before getting up and walking away for the last time.

That was the day Liam vowed to get sober. He checked himself into a rehabilitation program, convinced he’d get better and prove Danielle wrong, but by the time he’d finished he realized how selfish that whole notion was. She’d be better off if he left her alone. So he finished up his coursework and enrolled at a new university.

And for the next few years he was great. He made friends with Louis almost immediately and he was doing well in his social work program and his future was finally taking shape. Until Zayn. Zayn changed everything.

Zayn challenged Liam in ways he never knew were important. Zayn looks at the world through a different lense. He’s thoughtful and kind, and funny in a way Liam had never expected. Seeing Zayn grow and progress in his sobriety not only made Liam proud, but also pushed him to be better himself.

He’d always wanted what was best for Zayn. How could he have known that trying to do what he thought was right would only push him further in the wrong direction?

Liam re-reads the letter a few more times and stuffs it deep inside a drawer. He’s relieved to know that he can finally reach out to Zayn again but he’ll have to worry about that later. He’s already twenty minutes late to dinner with Niall.

When Liam meets Niall at the restaurant he’s already halfway through a basket of wings.

“Tuck in, mate!” Niall says, smiling as Liam slides into the booth.

They continue eating for a while, Niall stuffing himself till he’s red in the face and Liam barely making a dent in his own basket.

“What’s eating you?” Niall finally asks, “You’ve barely touched your food.”

Liam pauses, considering whether he wants to bring this up in the middle of a restaurant. “I heard from Zayn today. He wrote me a letter.”

“Oh, yeah! It finally got here?” Niall perks up.

“Wait you knew?”

“Well, yeah, ‘course. Zayn’s been calling everybody up like some sad puppy apologizing and stuff. Pretty weird if you ask me but yeah, last time we talked he was on his third draft of that letter.”

“Oh,” Liams brow furrows, “so you know what he said?”

“Nope. Wouldn’t even read me a little bit. I told him ‘if you’re gonna call me and ask me for my precious advice, the least you could do is tell me what the letter says,’ but it was a non-starter. Closed book.” Niall shrugs, “So...what did it is say? Or are you not gonna tell me either?”

Liam gulps, “He told me he loved me. Er--Loves me, I guess”

“Hah! Tell us something we don’t know!” Niall snorts but stops short when he sees Liam’s frown, “But seriously, man, that’s great! Considering, well, I mean...you love him too, right?”

“I do but...we can’t--”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, Liam” Niall interjects quickly, “I’ve heard this from the both of you one too many times ‘But we can’t,’ ‘he’s my sponsor,’ ‘I’m his sponsor,’ ‘he loves me,’ ‘he loves me not.’ Aren’t you a little bit tired of this forbidden romance business? You love Zayn. He clearly loves you. He can find a new sponsor. What’s the issue?”

“Well, it’s too late, isn’t it? He doesn’t even live here anymore.”

“Not right now, anyway...” A grin spreads across Niall’s face.

“What aren’t you telling me, Niall?”

Niall looks around, for who Liam’s not sure, before leaning in and continuing, “I might have heard that Zayn will be coming to the city next week. Tying up a couple of loose ends, something about a job interview.”

“An interview? For a job here? He didn’t mention anything about that in the letter.”

“Yeah, so technically he’s only told Louis about it, but you know how he gets with a few virgin daiquiris in him.”

Liam suddenly feels hopeful. The thought of getting to finally see Zayn after all this time makes him feel warm and excited like he hasn’t in months. “Well I’ve got to see him. Niall I need you to find out everything. Where he’ll be and when. Can you help me?”

“Hmmm. What’s in it for me, then?” Niall raises an eyebrow, “Haha just kidding man, ‘course I’ll help. But seriously are you gonna eat the rest of those wings?”

With a little help from Harry, Niall and Liam are able to figure out where Zayn will be. The offices for Arrow Comics are downtown and his interview is at 3 pm. Liam realizes how crazy it is to stalk Zayn like this but if Zayn is going to be this secretive then drastic measures must be taken.

Liam sets up camp in the park across the street from the offices. It’s not hard to spot them. It’s not a big looking office but there is a flashing red and black sign above the door saying “Arrow” in a font that rather looks like the tattoo Zayn has on his right arm. Liam sighs. This job is perfect for Zayn. He hopes he gets it, though his reasons for that might be a bit selfish.

Liam is pretty well hidden on a bench behind a tree but nonetheless when he sees Zayn across the street he hides himself even further behind a newspaper and pair of dark shades. He watches Zayn lean up against the building, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. Apparently he still hasn’t kicked that habit but Liam can’t complain about how good he looks doing it. It’s nice to see him in person. His eyes are a bit more sunken in than when he last saw him but otherwise he looks good, sharply dressed with a tweed blazer draped across his left arm.

Zayn flicks his cigarette to the ground and takes a deep breath. He stops to check his reflection in a shop window, adjusting his tie a bit before entering the building.

Now Liam just has to wait for the perfect moment. He doesn’t want to go in too soon only to find Zayn still waiting to be let into the interview but he also wants to catch him as he leaves. Liam waits a good ten minutes before crossing the street and entering the office. It’s a pretty open space, which Liam wasn’t expecting, but there is a small waiting area in one of the front corners of the room, which is otherwise full of drafting tables with men in Ray Bans and skinny jeans fully absorbed in whatever they are sketching.

An indifferent receptionist with blue hair and a nose ring looks over in Liam’s direction. “Can I help you?”

“Nope,” Liam replies nervously, shaking his head. “Just waiting on a friend.”

“Okay, just don’t touch anything.” The receptionist goes back to scrolling absentmindedly through her smartphone.

Across the room through a floor length glass window Liam can see Zayn and another man. Luckily, Zayn’s back is to Liam. He wouldn’t want Zayn to get distracted and blow his interview. Then Zayn really would have a reason to hate Liam.

From what Liam can tell the interview seems to be going well. The man conducting it is dressed rather casually in comparison to Zayn but he occasionally smiles at something Zayn says. He seems impressed when he goes through some papers Zayn hands to him. After a few more minutes, the man reaches across his desk and shakes Zayn’s hand.

He escorts Zayn out into the main room. Liam’s heart starts to beat fast as they get closer. It’s only a matter of time before -- “Liam?” Zayn freezes

Liam flushes and steps forward nervously.

“Hey!” The man who conducted the interview perks up, looking curiously from Zayn to Liam and back again “Is this...? Super L? Where’s your megaphone, man?”

“What?” Liam laughs.

Zayn goes beet red and grabs Liam’s arm. “Thank you so much for the opportunity. Hope I hear from you soon!” And then he’s dragging Liam out of the office, around the building, and into a nearby alley.

“What are you doing here?” Zayn’s expression is wild. Liam can’t tell if he’s angry or excited. He starts to rattle off questions. “How did you know I would be here? Who told you--”

Zayn looks so cute and flustered Liam can’t contain himself any longer. He’d planned to wait until they talked first but he can’t hold back. The moment he’d heard Zayn say his name earlier he’d known he needs to be with him. He’ll do whatever he has to. He pushes Zayn into the brick wall, kissing him hard. It’s a bit awkward and clumsy at first, Zayn having gone rigid from shock and Liam pressing into him a bit too forcefully at first. But after a moment, Zayn melts into it, allowing Liam to deepen the kiss, not trying to stop or question it any longer.

Liam cups Zayns face in his hands firmly and Zayn lets his hands drop down to Liam’s waist and lock together behind his back. The sounds of the city fade into the background as Zayn opens his mouth further to let Liam’s tongue explore his mouth. Zayn runs his hands up and down Liam’s sides, trying to soak in as much of Liam’s body as he could, his fingers eventually stopping to hook themselves in one of Liam’s belt loops.

Liam pulls off Zayn after a few minutes, breathless, heart about to pound out of his chest. He looks at Zayn. He’s about to say something but Zayn licks his lips and dives in again, pulling Liam in close and starting to run the heel of his hand over Liam’s crotch through the fabric of jeans.

“Not here,” Liam laughs, swatting Zayn’s hand away and stepping back, causing Zayn to trip over himself in the now empty space between them. Zayn whines but straightens himself when he realizes that, yes, they are still in an alley.

“I missed you,” Zayn replies, smiling and finally taking in Liam’s appearance, a sight for sore eyes to say the least.

Liam smirks, putting his arm around Zayn as they make their way back out to the street. “I missed you, too.”

Liam leads Zayn to his car and they drive back to his apartment. Back in the alley, he was in a rush to get Zayn to a private place by whatever means necessary, but by the time they arrive there they are so engrossed in conversation they never even make it to his bedroom.

They talk for hours, catching up, laughing until they’re doubled over in pain. But the conversation isn’t always easy. There comes a time when Liam has to bring up what they’ve both been avoiding.

“So. I got your letter,” Liam starts.

“Yeah, about that...I didn’t mean for it to be weird or anything, I just--”

Liam interrupts him. “I love you too.” And in that instant any lingering tension between them fades away. They stay up all night, cuddled up next to one another, talking about everything, family, recovery, the boys.

It takes a lot out of him but Liam is finally able to tell Zayn about his past, about Danielle and the baby. Zayn is clearly surprised but doesn’t judge. After he’s told Zayn it feels like a massive weight has been lifted off his chest. He’d been so afraid Zayn would run away again after hearing it but he couldn’t bear the thought of not being honest with him. As Zayn wraps Liam up into a warm embrace Liam thinks that this must be what real unconditional love feels like. They’ve both made horrible mistakes but they love each other in spite of them.

It’s not easy to go over the past few months and discuss what happened, but Liam insists, and by the time they see the first morning light they both feel better than they have all semester, despite not having gotten a wink of sleep.

Zayn looks at his phone to see the familiar flashing light signalling missed calls. They’re mostly from his mother, probably wondering how the interview went, but there are a few from Niall and Harry, who obviously had some part in this. He hastily sends out a few texts assuring them he’s all right then turns off his phone.

Zayn rolls over and nuzzles his head back into Liam’s neck. The world could wait, because he has Liam now. Because Liam loves him. Because they love each other, and now they’ve promised they’ll get better together, whether or not Liam is Zayn’s sponsor.

\----- one month later -----

Zayn wakes to the feeling of Liam’s fingers softly tracing lines across his bare chest. “Morning, angel,” Liam smiles.

Zayn would roll over to try to go back to sleep, but he feels too good like this, staring up at Liam’s glowing face, the morning sun coming through the window making Liam squint in that way Zayn could never resist. Now he doesn’t have to.

“I still can’t believe you did this,” Liam continues to draw outlines on the angel wings spreading across Zayn’s chest.

“Yeah, but you love it,” Zayn smirks.

“I can’t argue with that.” Liam sighs, pressing a warm, wet kiss right between the wings that sends goosebumps running down Zayn’s arms. Zayn still can’t get used to the fact that he can have Liam whenever he wants. He still gets desperate and needy when they’re close like this. He can’t think, he can’t reason, all he can do is want.

Zayn kicks the blankets still covering his lower half to the floor so he can roll over and position himself on top of Liam. They’ve both still got a bit of sleep in their eyes so they kiss lazily at first, enjoying the slow rhythm of how their bodies fit against one another.

Zayn kisses Liam until the sour taste of sleep disappears from both of their mouths. Straddling Liam, Zayn takes a moment to soak in how beautiful he looks, messy curls matted on the pillow, a tiny bit of scruff forming along his jawline. Liam allows it for a moment, pleased with his own view of Zayn, but soon enough he’s leaning up to pull Zayn in again. This time they kiss faster, messier, needier.

Liam lets his hands roam Zayn’s body, placing a hand on the curve of Zayn’s lower back, causing it to arch and thrust forward into Liam’s crotch. Zayn continues to grind himself into Liam, occasionally leaning in to bite at his collarbone.

At one point Liam turns his head over to look at the clock, “What time is--”

“Ah ah ah,” Zayn shakes his head and shuts Liam up with another kiss, “We’ve got time.” Zayn rolls himself off Liam, taking a moment to shed his own pants before making his way down Liam’s body, kissing in a line down his abdomen until he reaches the waistband of Liam’s boxers. Zayn hovers for a second and lets out a warm breath over Liam’s already tented boxers, making Liam squirm beneath him.

“Jesus, Zayn, get on with it already,” Liam whines.

“Okay, okay,” Zayn laughs, “I thought you were the one who wanted to take it slow.” Zayn slides off Liam’s boxers and throws them to the ground beside the bed. Zayn uses one hand to grip the base of Liam’s dick while the other reaches up to find his hand, letting their fingers intertwine clumsily as Zayn presses kisses into Liam’s inner thigh.

Zayn gives Liam’s cock a few agonizingly slow strokes before opening his mouth and taking him in. One of Liam’s hands grabs Zayn’s hair and guides him as he bobs up and down on Liam’s cock, the other hand still grasping Zayn’s at his side. Zayn flattens his tongue to take more of Liam’s dick in his mouth, working his way further and further down with each draw until Zayn’s tongue can almost reach Liam’s balls. Zayn’s throat goes slack as he looks up into Liam’s eyes. With that, Liam’s hips stutter up and his cock hits the back of Zayn’s throat, causing Zayn to make an obscene gagging noise that almost pushes Liam over the edge. Liam stops to catch his breath, curling a free hand into the bedsheets as he struggles not to come.

“My turn,” Liam growls pulling Zayn up into a kiss and repositioning him so he’s lying flat on the bed. Liam shifts himself so he’s hovering over Zayn. He kisses Zayn hungrily as he reaches a hand down to stroke him. Zayn bucks up into Liam’s touch, squirming and panting as Liam’s finger moves toward his hole. “This ok?” Liam asks, barely tucking his fingertip inside.

Zayn nods fervently, unable to think clearly as Liam pushes his finger deep inside his hole. Liam pulls out and in a few times, picking up speed until he finally crooks his finger, laughing in between kisses as Zayn lets out breathy gasps. “ _Fuck. Liam. More._ ”

Liam moves down Zayn’s body until he reaches his ass. He presses kisses all the way down Zayn’s trembling thighs until he reaches his hole. Liam offers a teasing kiss on the outside of his hole before he spits on a second finger to slick it up and carefully slides it in. Zayn groans at the feeling, his back arching up which causes Liam to place a warm, steadying hand on Zayn’s stomach to hold him down as he draws his fingers in and out fast and hard.

When Liam pulls his fingers out Zayn lets out a little whimper until he feels Liam’s tongue enter him. It’s soft and wet and warm and fuck if Liam keeps doing that he won’t be able to last much longer.

“Liam,” Zayn gasps, “I need you.”

From where he’s positioned at Zayn’s ass Liam can’t understand what Zayn is mumbling up at the head of the bed, so he continues to draw circles around Zayn’s hole until he feels Zayn’s hands firmly gripping his hair, pulling him up in his direction.

“I need you to fuck me, Liam,” Zayn says louder, “now.”

Liam grins, he loves that he can get Zayn to this point with just foreplay. He quickly crawls to position himself on top of Zayn, grabbing one of his legs to hook it over his shoulder. Liam lets go of him for a moment, grabbing the lube that’s still on the bedside table from the night before, and gets his cock wet. He jerks himself a few times with the wet palm of his hand and guides it towards Zayns hole. He’s barely got the tip in and Zayn is throwing his head back in pleasure.

Liam pushes himself further in, hands digging fingerprints into Zayn’s hips as he builds up a rhythm. “ _Shit_ , Zayn,” Liam groans as Zayn clenches around his dick. He closes his eyes in concentration, unable to look at Zayn spread open on the bed like this any longer without coming.

Huffing, Liam fucks Zayn further into the bed, eyes still shut tight, until he feels one of Zayn’s hands making it’s way up to Liam’s chest and grabbing one of his nipples until it’s teased into a stiff peak. When Liam can’t take it any longer he pulls out and moves Zayn to reposition him until he’s facing away from him on all fours.

Zayn chances a look back at Liam before he slams himself into Zayn again. Liam fucks Zayn filthy and hard, one hand gripping Zayn’s shoulder to keep himself steady as his rhythm becomes more sporadic. Liam pulls Zayn in so his back is pressed against his stomach as he continues to slide roughly in and out of him. Zayn is trapped in Liam’s embrace but he doesn’t mind. He let’s Liam’s arms wrap tightly around his front, one dropping down to stroke Zayn’s cock firmly.

Liam presses hot kisses into Zayn’s neck and the scratchy feeling of his scruff combined with how amazing Liam feels buried inside him sends him over the edge. With a couple quick jerks, Zayn is coming all over Liam’s hand. Zayn sighs in relief and melts further back into Liam, the both of them still standing in the same direction on their knees, pressed up against one another as Liam continues to thrust into Zayn.

Liam doesn’t last much longer. Within a few seconds Liam is coming, whispering Zayn’s name as he spills inside of him with a shudder.

Liam and Zayn fall back on the bed, sweaty and sticky but happy. Zayn tries to wrap an arm around Liam and pull him in for a cuddle but before he knows it, Liam is shifting over to the edge of the bed. “Leaving so soon?” Zayn frowns.

“Duty calls,” He calls as he heads towards the bathroom and turns on the shower.

“Ah, yes, can’t keep those at-risk youths waiting just to stay home and snog your boyfriend? You know they’re all going to show up late to the community center anyways?” Zayn shouts from the bed, well aware Liam probably can’t hear him by now.

He comes out a few minutes later, fresh and steamy as he leans over the bed to try to drag Zayn out of it.

“Come on then, you! As I recall it’s an important day for you as well. Can’t be late for your first day at work!”

“Ah yes, the coffee won’t make itself, will it?” Zayn sighs.

“Hey, at least it’s a start!” Liam offers, finally succumbing and allowing Zayn to pull him back onto the bed.

“Yeah,” Zayn sighs contentedly, and snuggles into Liam’s still wet, warm body. “It’s a start.”

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to Kimmie who was with me every step of the way :)


End file.
